


Good Boys

by DeanandCas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 34,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11420388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanandCas/pseuds/DeanandCas
Summary: Dean's routine at Sonny's House for Boys is suddenly altered by the arrival of Castiel, a boy whose history makes him isolate himself from the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Bons Meninos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4953490) by [DeanandCas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanandCas/pseuds/DeanandCas). 



> Story based on the Supernatural episode 9.07 - Bad Boys.
> 
> This story was originally written in Brazilian Portuguese. I'm trying my best to translate this fic to English but it is unbetaed so if you spot any mistakes feel free to correct me or give any suggestions to improve understanding.  
> Thanks for your patience!  
> 

The door opened suddenly and the deep voice of the owner of the house announced, as every morning:

"Good Morning! Time to get up! "

It was the signal for him to stretch out and leave the comfort of the bed. Dean grunted, thinking about what he had done to deserve that.

Immediately he realized that he was the only one to be blamed for being there. It was his own fault. His father was right to leave him there, to learn in the most difficult way what it was to betray his family's trust.

He thought of his father and brother. It was the family he had left. He hoped he would not stay away from them much longer, but his father would decide when the time was right. Dean should not reproach him for making the decision to leave him there as punishment.

He dragged his feet off the bed and put some worn jeans and a too big t-shirt over the underwear he usually wore to sleep. Those were not the clothes he wore when he came to this place. They were work clothes, worn many times by countless boys. Guys who, like him, had somehow failed to respect the law and who had been able to atone for their faults through hard work on Sonny's farm.

At least the food was good. The day was long with the heavy tasks entrusted to the boys, but the cook was great and they could always count on hearty meals and some dessert at dinner.

The smell of coffee filled his nostrils, accompanied by the scent of bacon. Salivating, he sat down at the table, nodding at owner of the house. Sonny was at the head of the table. As soon as the cook, Mrs. Mendez sat down, having laid before them the plates of the first meal of the day, they all bowed their heads and heard her say grace. He was Catholic and firmly believed in the power of prayer. She felt that the boys needed divine help if they wanted to get out of their difficulties.

She cared for their souls, while Sonny made them strong in body and character, trying to teach them early what he had learned the hard way. However not everyone understood his commitment, eventually following the same path he had, that ended invariably in jail or death.

After all, he had more successes than failures among his boys. It was not enough for him to feel as if he had done his duty, but he was relieved a little of the guilt of the suffering he had caused to his own family. If he could keep other mothers and fathers from going through what their own had endured... That was all he wanted.

Dean shoved a generous portion of scrambled eggs into his mouth. There were days, in his normal life, when such a delicacy was not part of the menu. He was grateful at least for that. He hoped that his father was taking better care of Sam while he was not there. John Winchester always had his mind set on other things and that often interfered with the way he treated his children. He was a warrior and had raised his boys to follow in his footsteps, even if the younger did it reluctantly, as if, as soon as he had the chance, he could choose another way.

He swallowed, feeling his throat tighten at the thought of his little brother. Sam was like a son, despite the small difference in age. It did not occur to him to question the fact that his father had given him such a heavy responsibility so soon. Sam was his responsibility and he has never shied from it. Since the distant day, which he could barely remember, in which he had carried the six-month-old baby out of the burning house.

"Well, guys, the chores of the day are on the board." The strong man's voice broke his reverie. "Don’t let me find you fishing again, Benny. Good work, everyone. "

The twelve young men who were 'guests' in the Sonny’s House for Boys got up at once and started to leave. It was Saturday and the activities did not include going to school. Dean was leaving the table when he was called to stay in the kitchen for another moment.

"Dean, I need to go into town today to get compost and chicken feed. I could have another pair of strong arms to help me," he said with a gentle look. "After you feed the animals, come meet me at the office."

Dean knew that Sonny used those little trips to town to talk privately to each of the boys he had under his tutelage. These incursions to the city on Saturdays were the opportunity he had to know them better and get them to do things they usually could not, living on a farm. Dean had already gone shopping with him before and then they had lunch at a small diner. It had been a good day, even if the cute waitress had not heeded Dean’s awkward attempts at flirting. The pie had made up for the disappointment though.

Another thing that appealed to Dean on these little trips was that Sonny's musical taste was very much like his own. He let him choose the radio station that played the hard rock hits of the 70's and 80's that were his favorites. That Saturday they even had a duet when Steppenwolf's ‘Born to Be Wild’ played.

The load of fertilizer was small, but that of feed made up for it. Dean had been struggling not to show how heavy the packages were. He had developed a similar respect for Sonny as he had for his father over the weeks that had been in his institution. He saw in this rustic, simple man the person the father could have been if he had not lost his wife so tragically. It had been too big a trauma to overcome.

Dean knew that the father loved his boys deeply, but his relationship with them was, to some extent, hampered by suffering and guilt. He could not talk to the boys like Sonny, he always looked more like a military commander than a loving father. So Dean felt a little guilty for wanting him to behave similarly to the man he was with. He wanted that more for Sam´s sake than himself.

Finished the hard part of the day, Sonny had patted his back and asked if he was hungry. Dean nodded gratefully, hoping they could go to the same restaurant again. The pie was really good.

As they entered, Dean immediately sensed the presence of the girl who he had tried to talk to the previous time. But that was new to him, as well as the subtleties of human relationships. He had no idea that the girl had acted that way to value herself. She had been flattered with the attention, but she was not going to give in so easily to a boy who was in a juvenile recovery home. She had not missed his large green eyes or freckled face, much less the fragility he tried to hide under bravado and a smug smile.

But Dean did not want to try again, even though the girl's smiling face told him to. It was still early for another chance for her to reject him.

When they ordered and the girl left, Sonny began the conversation in a way that made the boys usually open up. He spoke of his own personal difficulties, so that they identified and eventually told him what troubled them.

The subterfuge did not go unnoticed. Sonny told Dean how his father had been a violent alcoholic. Dean noticed that he had not believed, obviously, when he'd said that the bruises on his arms had been caused by a werewolf. But who would believe? Even if the person had knowledge of the supernatural world, who would believe him when his father left him behind in an institution?

Dean pushed the subject aside as best he could, lowering his head, even if it reinforced the belief that his father had beaten him before leaving him in the hands of the police. What he had not been able to anticipate was the course the conversation would take from then on.

The man in front of him began to tell him the story of another young man who had been found wandering around the city a few days earlier. He had been in the custody of the state ever since, but there was nowhere else to be sent except for Sonny's house, until some legal guardian could be found.

Dean did not understand. Boys came and went without Sonny preparing the others for the arrival of any of them. Why did he decide to tell him this story?

"We are going to the headquarters of the Child Protective Services to get him and take him to the farm. I wish you... if you can, try to help him. Approach him. The social worker who contacted me told that he has not spoken to anyone since he was found. He seems to have suffered some violence and he is withdrawn. I thought... you could... _a-ham_... help him... " he hesitated... _since he seemed to have a similar background_ was what he really meant, Dean thought. It only confirmed the suspicion that Sonny believed his father was violent.

"You are a smart boy and the way you talk about your brother... I thought you could help us. I think he could benefit from a friend and I feel that you have a generous nature."

"Sonny, I... I don't know if..."

"Try it, Dean, please. That's all I ask. If you can’t get close, that's okay. But I think some of the other kids might treat him badly for his behavior, but you... you're a good boy. I know. I can trust you."

The freckled boy felt his face warm. It was unusual to receive any kind of praise, except from Sam, and he had particular ways of deflecting, demeaning himself. But coming from Sonny it was different. He felt that he was not worthy of it and that the man did not really know him, but at the same time it made him want to believe.

"Okay, I'll try." That's what he said, after pretending to think for a moment. He realized that he couldn’t deny Sonny his help. The man had only good intentions and treated Dean as a human being, a person who deserved to be taken into account.


	2. Chapter 2

Sonny and Dean entered the gray building that housed the Child Protective Services in the small town. The boy felt a chill, remembering the moment the policeman had brought him here before they decided that Sonny's house would be an appropriate destination for him.

Asking the receptionist for an appointment, they were directed to the first floor, room 108. They should speak to Hannah, the social worker in charge of the case.

Sonny knocked on the door and the dark-haired, blue-eyed woman opened it a few seconds later. She greeted the well-known benefactor of the area with a determined handshake, but her eyes narrowed as she focused on Dean.

"Sonny, I'd like to talk to you privately for a second," he said flatly.

The man turned to the young man and pointed to a couch at the end of the corridor.

Dean hated that depressing building. Anything was better than being there, not belonging to any place. He sat down and began to look around at the images of smiling children in beautiful locations that adorned the walls. He thought about the irony of putting those pictures in a place in which youngsters who faced family difficulties were brought. Looking at them made him feel like a kind of alien, with the complex history of his family permeated by loss, denial and revenge.

He picked a cuticle, trying not to think about Sam. The longing was palpable.

His thoughts were interrupted when a door opened. A large man and a thin boy went out into the corridor where he was. The boy looked, by comparison, even thinner, the second-hand clothes hanging from his body. His hair, long and messy, fell over his forehead. Dean couldn’t see his face which was turned toward the ground.

The man in a suit did not touch the boy, merely walking beside him, guiding him verbally on the way ahead. The boy only moved mechanically in the direction indicated, showing no reaction, taking slow steps, his arms hanging at the side of his body.

Dean stared at him for a moment, then lowered his head again. He felt like an intruder in the life of that boy who must have been almost the same age as him.

When they had walked a few steps toward the room where Sonny had come in, Dean looked up again, and he fixed his eyes on the tanned skin of his neck, where the dark, straight hair seemed to curl a little toward the ears. That vision brought him another sensation, one of total hopelessness. He felt the suffering that emanated from the young man strongly, almost like a physical blow.

He felt sorry for the other boy, his heart too accustomed to pain. He was going to do what his current tutor had asked. He was going to try to get close and be friends with that boy. If anyone in the world needed a friend, it was him.

After a wait that seemed too long, the door opened again and the adults and the boy emerged from it. The atmosphere seemed a little tense, with the boy trying to keep himself as far from the other two as possible.

Sonny scratched the back of his neck, clearly not sure what to do, which was a surprise to Dean. He was a strong, confident figure and the young in his care knew it. He then made a signal for the waiting boy to approach.

Dean tried to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to show how much he felt in the presence of the other boy.

"James, this is Dean. He's also lives on the farm. "

Dean smiled and tried to offer his hand in greeting. In response came an almost imperceptible attempt to avoid the gesture. Dean immediately lowered his hand, mortified by the reaction it had caused.

Sonny, sensing the embarrassment, stepped forward to lead his new guest toward the exit, nodding slightly to Hannah, who watched the group walk away with a dismayed look.

Dean did not know what to do. The cab of the pickup truck was not very roomy, made up of a single seat on which each of the two had sat at one end, by the open windows. Now the three would sit very close, personal space was out of the question. He thought how overwhelming the situation might seem to the other boy.

He opened the door and went in, sitting next to the driver, leaving room next to the door for the boy who had been called James. He wanted to give him some space, trying not to look like he was avoiding physical contact.

James sat down against the door, the thinness allowing him to occupy the smallest possible area in the seat.

Sonny started the car for the forty-minute drive to the farm.

The silence was almost concrete inside the vehicle. The air was full of unspoken words, generated by Sonny and Dean’s insecurity in dealing with the awkward situation.

The owner of the car tried to remedy the discomfort by turning the radio on again, but the camaraderie they had shared before had no place there, replaced by something else that Dean couldn't define. They rode in silence, the three of them, while the speakers vibrated to the sound of songs from another time.

Dean casted a discreet look at James from time to time. James’ eyes never left the hands he had tied on his thighs, the long strands of dark brown hair hiding his face.

Saturday was a different day at the farm. The boys did chores only in the morning and after lunch they had a few hours for themselves. When the truck stopped in front of the house, Dean could see that most of them had gathered to play ball.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, following James's uncertain movements, his name was called from the field. Benny, a boy who looked a lot taller than his seventeen years, tall and muscular always invited him to play.

"Dean! I saved a place on the team for you, bro!"

Dean waved, signaling for him wait a little, he would be back soon.

Even with his friend's scowl, he insisted on accompanying Sonny and James into the house, pretending to need a drink of water in the kitchen. The owner of the house was showing it to the newcomer, going from room to room. Dean wiped his lips with the back of his hand and followed them into the hallway as Sonny gestured for him to climb the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

The bed next to Dean's was vacant since he'd gotten there. Now it would be occupied by James. The tutor took a roll of tape from the shelf and a pen and wrote James’ name, attatching it to the worn wooden headboard.

He opened one of the cabinets and removed a pillow, a set of white bedding and a blanket, laying them on the bare mattress.

"James, you're going to sleep here. Dean sleeps there, if you need anything at night, ask him for help. Do not hesitate to look for me or Mrs. Mendez, when she's in the house. I like to think of the boys who live in my house as family." Sonny and Dean noticed the frown at the mention of the word ‘family’.

Cautiously, Sonny continued:

"Whatever you need, if you feel sick, if you have any problems... I need to know, James. Hannah, the social worker, will closely monitor your case. She will call every week, then come and see you. I wish you could find friends here. "

Neither of them expected any kind of reaction from James, since he had been silent since they met him, but unexpectedly he shook his head in agreement. Then he turned to the window and sat down on the bed, his hands resting on his lap.

Sonny touched Dean's shoulder and said:

"Benny is impatient out there. Go play. Let James rest a while."

As soon as the boy left the room, Sonny sat on Dean's bed and said quietly, looking at the face where a blank expression had set:

"James ... I know your life has been difficult, living on the streets, no food... I know you have suffered much more than I can imagine... But I would like you to think of your stay here as an opportunity to heal. When you're better, you also may go to school. The guys can be a little rough at times, but they are good boys, deep down. I feel you could make friends if you want to. But all in due time. Don’t forget that you have a protector and a friend in me, right?"

This time James turned his eyes to Sonny. He said nothing but the experienced man who ran that house, who had been part of gangs in his teens, who had been involved in crime and drugs, and who had served a long sentence, was surprised by the depth of the suffering in those blue eyes.

When he looked out the window again, Sonny got up and left the room. He could see Dean quickly running down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner was served after everyone had taken a shower. Sated, after the substantial meal, the boys showed the energy of youth while they were gathered in the living room.

Saturday night was movie night. The young men chose the movie during the week by a vote. They were all spread out on the couch, on the armchairs and on the rug, while Mrs. Mendez made some popcorn. Sonny’s intention was to give those boys a chance of experiencing a closer relationship as brothers, like a family, since most of them came from fractured homes. It was not always easy or perfect. But he knew that it was a decisive factor in the lives of many, who could see other possibilities. Some had returned to thank him, others wrote thank-you letters, some graduated, and most got married and had a family of their own. It was reassuring to know that his efforts were not in vain.

Looking around, he realized that James was not there, which he had already expected. What was not common was the absence of Dean, fanatic for action movies as he was. He would not lose ‘Die Hard’ for nothing.

He went upstairs to the room where he left the new boy. He looked inside to see James still sitting on the bed, face down again, absorbed in his own thoughts.

Dean looked flustered, looking for one of his shoes. He was looking under the beds and grunted, trying not to look up at James.

"I'm sure Gordon did it... He is such a sore loser! Hiding my left boot is a low blow."

With a sigh, he sat up in his own bed, his face in an expression of irritation. Scratching his head, he looked at James and said softly:

"I don’t think I can watch the movie tonight... There's a dress code in this house... I can’t go downstairs barefoot. Damn it!

Sonny, standing in the hallway wanted to listen a little more.

"They’re watching ‘Die Hard’… Bruce Willis, man!"

James looked absent, as if he was not listening to the other boy’s whining.

"There's nothing I can do then," Dean said, lying down with a sigh. "I guess I'll have to stay right here..." He stretched out on the mattress, staring at the ceiling, with a quick glance to the side.

To the surprise of both, Sonny and Dean, James left the position he was in and leaned forward and untied the laces of his sneakers. He shoved them off, and without a word, pushed the pair of shabby shoes toward his roommate.

Dean blinked, stunned. This was unexpected. James had resumed his previous position, his feet now only covered by old socks while resting on the linoleum floor.

"James... if I wear your sneakers, you can’t go downstairs and watch the movie... Thanks, but I can’t do this."

James did not lift his head, but with one of his feet he pushed the sneakers closer to Dean, showing that he did not intend to go downstairs and that the other should do so.

"And now this!" he thought. He did not want to refuse James's offer, but the intention he'd had when he hid his own shoe was to stay in the bedroom, keeping James company.

He thought of Sam. What would his brother do in such a situation? He was younger, but he had a lot more tact when dealing with people.

"You know... this whole story gave me a headache... I don’t want to watch the movie anymore. Thank you, anyway for offering me your shoes. It was very kind of you."

He stood and began to unbutton his shirt.

"I'm going to sleep. Besides, if I come downstairs, I don’t think I can control myself. I would probably kick Gordon’s ass."

He hung his shirt, pulling his jeans off. In socks and underwear, he lay down under the blanket, yawning. He looked at James, whose bed was still undone, the things Sonny had given him earlier piled on the mattress.

He looked again at the canvas sneakers that once had been white. He got up and put them under his room-mate's bed.

"Good night, James. If you need anything, just call me, right? "

Sonny turned away, trying not to make a sound. He had been right about asking Dean to help James. That boy had a huge heart.

Sunday was the least strict day in the house. There was a rotation for the basic tasks to be performed, those ones that had to be done every day. One of them was feeding the animals. Moreover, Sonny encouraged the boys to rest, read and take advantage of what the farm could offer. Some liked to go fishing, others went swimming when the weather allowed.

On Sunday, the call to get up was not at five, as on other days. At seven, Sonny went from room to room waking the boys up. The smell of coffee went upstairs and helped him with the task.

Dean opened his eyes and looked to the side, curious, only to find James with his back turned to him, fully dressed, curled up on the mattress, holding his knees close to his chest. He had not made the bed before sleeping. He was probably unaccustomed to the simplest things, like a roof over his head, a clean bed, a healthy meal, someone to talk to.

As the other still seemed to be asleep, Dean stood up and hesitantly touched him lightly on the shoulder, calling him in a low voice.

The brief contact seemed to have the effect of an electric shock on the sleeping boy. In less than a second he sat on the bed, his face alarmed as if he had been attacked.

Dean felt bad for startling him. He stepped back and murmured an apology.

James was breathing hard and leaned back against the headboard. His eyes, however, wandered over to Dean's face and he nodded, as if there was no problem.

"Let's go. Mrs. Mendez makes pancakes for Sunday breakfast and those who are late can run out. If Benny is already there, our chances are very low..." He said, smiling. He picked up his things and went to the bathroom, leaving James still in bed. When he came back, James had put on his shoes and looked, somewhat confused, at Dean. He opened the cabinet they shared and gave him a toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as two towels. The boy accepted those things without a word and headed for the bathroom, since the other boys had already left the room.

 When James closed the door behind him, Dean had finished making his own bed and looked at his colleague's. He wanted to help James feel at home. He stretched the sheets, smoothed the blanket over everything and smiled. He went to the closet at the end of the hallway where the community-donated clothes were stored and he chose a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a hooded sweatshirt and two pairs of socks. He then added a package with three white, new boxers. The clothes James was wearing were too big for him, making he look much thinner than Dean.

He went back to the bedroom and left the clothes folded on the neat bed and went down to have breakfast, thinking of the pancakes. Maybe he could save some for James.

Sitting at the table, one of the last, Dean was trying to stretch his stay. He had saved three pancakes for James, and if it took too long he was not sure if he could resist eating them.

He breathed, relieved, when he saw the boy standing at the door. Sonny, who was reading the paper at the table, raised his eyes and motioned for him to sit down. There were a lot of vacant seats, the boys having already left for their activities. The only ones who still remained there were Sonny, Dean and Garth, another frail-looking boy.

Picking the chair next to Dean, he avoided meeting his eyes. The freckled boy, accustomed to taking care of his brother, picked up the empty plate in front James and gave him the pancakes. He acted naturally. Caring for people was part of his nature. However he didn’t take care of himself the way he cared for Sammy.

To Sonny none of that went unnoticed, but he remained silent. A smile formed on his face behind the paper.

As James devoured the meal, noticing how much he'd missed it, Dean stood up and helped Mrs. Mendez with the dishes. It was not an obligation; he did because he felt very close to the stocky Hispanic-accented lady.

When he saw that his colleague had finished, he asked:

"Well, the chickens need to be fed. Would you like to go with me and see how it’s done, Jim?"

At first the boy did not seem to notice that Dean was speaking to him, as if that name did not concern him. Then he looked up and stared at Dean, before looking at Sonny, as if asking for permission.

"Yes, Jim, if you want to go with _D-Dawg_... Help him collect the eggs. Maybe this time Dean don’t drop the basket and break all the eggs..." he said with a small smile.

"It was Gordon’s fault, you know… He always wants me to get in trouble..." he began, sulking, but stopped when he realized that the tutor was not scolding him, he was only joking.

The cook handed him a basket to put the eggs and they went out the back door toward the chicken coop.

Dean distributed the feed and did the cleaning while James looked at him, paying attention. Then Dean showed him how to get the eggs and put them in the basket delicately. After a while he started to pick them carefully.

The boy who had been nicknamed D-Dawg by Sonny wanted to talk, to learn more about the other, but was afraid to scare him. So he kept quiet watching him work. His face seemed more focused, less vague, and that was a small relief.

On his return home he ventured:

"Have you worked on a farm before?"

James shook his head, looking down.

"Me neither. It's hard work, with school and everything. But it makes you feel… I don’t know… like you have a purpose.”

"I suppose so." It was the unexpected answer. Dean's eyes widened and he cleared his throat before continuing.

"Do you... like to fish? Benny and Victor always go fishing on Sunday and they always invite me. Would you like to... come along? "

A look of insecurity flickered across James's face before he could say anything:

"Are they… your friends?"

"They're nice guys. There are other boys here that ... man! They're total idiots, but Benny is cool, despite his scaring size. They will not care if you come along. Not if I say you are my friend. "

James looked at him, brow furrowed.

"If you want... of course... to be my friend."

"I ... I've never had many friends."

"Well, I want to be your friend."

"Why?" He asked softly.

"Because you think you’re cool too. And you remind me of my little brother. He is thin and hates cutting his hair..." _And I feel the need to protect you the same way I protect him_ , but he was not going to say that.

Suddenly feeling conscious of his messy hair, James ran a hand down the fringe that fell over his eyes.

"Well, are we going or not?"

"If you say they won't mind..."

"Let's just leave the eggs at the kitchen and get some snacks. It'll be nice, you'll see."

They walked the rest of the way with a lighter atmosphere between them.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean, excited, pointed the way to the shed in which most of the farm's equipment was stored. There he found some fishing rods and lines, in the midst of that immense amount of tools and instruments. Benny and Victor had already been there, due to the disorder in the place. Sonny would freak out if he saw that mess.

He handed James what he needed, asking if he'd ever had a chance to fish, which was answered with a negative shake of his head.

There was a creek at the back of the house, a few hundred yards down, but the good place to fish was farther away. They walked along the dirt road with Dean filling the air with his voice, excited as he was to be able keep company to the boy who needed his support according to the owner of the house.

Any questions were usually answered monosyllabically or through simple gestures, but Dean knew he had to go slow.

After a few minutes of walking in the bright sunshine, they spotted Dean's friends on the bank of the river under a leafy tree. They greeted the freckled boy with joy, but cast a suspicious glance toward James, which Dean shut up with a discreet nod.

Comradeship among the boys of different ways of life was easy, for they usually liked cars, music and girls. Dean, Victor and Benny did, at least. They didn’t have a clue about James. Any reference to one or another subject was met with an exasperating silence, sometimes just a confused look.

But the boy who had Sonny’s assignment couldn’t fail. He tried to divert the subject to something simpler and more concrete:  fishing. The time of the day was not ideal and they didn’t catch anything.

Then Benny took off his shirt and threw it away, complaining of the heat. Victor did the same, his dark skin shiny with sweat. Dean had brought some biscuits and used them to divert the attention from the fact that James was still in his hooded sweater zipped up to his neck.

The taller of the four, the blond boy with a southern accent, suddenly shouted:

"Gee, bro, look at that!" He pulled out his line that was tangled with Dean's. Victor wanted to help, but as he tried to get closer, walking over the gnarled roots of the tree, he lost his balance, taking Benny with him into the river.

Water spilled everywhere, splattering the two boys still on the bank. James tried to lean a little more against the trunk, putting himself away from the splashing zone. Benny and Victor were playing, laughing and trying to dunk one another. Without warning, Dean's foot was grabbed and he went into the creek as well. Now there were three boys wet to the bone.

James was still sitting, trying to get as far away from the mess as possible, but his eyes seemed stuck on the boys who played freely, enjoying the moment.

But then Benny's strong hand grabbed the collar of James’ sweatshirt. He began to pull him into the water in a friendly way, but the smaller guy began to struggle violently. Dean, trapped under Victor's arm, tried to pull away to avoid it, but it was too late.

 _"Stop!"_  Dean wanted to scream, but the word died in his throat as the sweatshirt was pulled out of James’ body. What the three boys saw made them stop playing immediately.

James's torso was covered by scars and bruises in many stages of healing, from black to yellow. He had not just been beaten. He must have been subjected to regular beatings before he got there.

His face showed shame and Dean tried to get to the bank as quickly as possible. But before he could do it, James had picked up his wet clothes and ran away. As he turned his back to them, the boys could also see that it was marked by long cuts, some recent, as if he somebody had used a whip on him.

Even Benny, who had already had chance to see a lot of bad things in his brief existence, had choked at the sight.

Dean was totally horrified. He knew that James had been a victim of violence, but he could never guess to what extent. He looked at the young man that was running desperately towards the woods.

 "Sorry, Dean... we did not know..." whispered Benny.

 "Dude..."  It was the only word Victor managed to articulate, too shocked to say anything else.

Stumbling, Dean tried to reach the road and follow him. He was not sure it was a good idea, but he couldn’t leave him alone in that unfamiliar place.

James could run, and his legs seemed tireless, taking him away from the others. Dean called his name many times but it was like he didn’t feel the branches or the bumpy path that led deeper into the woods.

The freckled boy couldn't follow him, even though he tried until he could no longer stand. James has disappeared amidst the trees.

When Dean arrived at the farmhouse, Benny and Victor had told the whole story to Sonny. Taking a serious look at them, he ordered them to change and left the house. Dean tried to follow him but the man said:

"Dean, I told you to go change..." he mumbled heading for the garage, not looking back.

"Sonny, I... let me go along... I want to help..."

"Not this time, Dean. Go home and do as I told you."

Dragging his feet up the steps, his conscience weighed a ton. He couldn't have let that happen.

Night was falling as the truck pulled up in front of the house. By that time, everyone had already heard the story  and looked forward to the return of the leader of their small community. Mrs. Mendez, who usually stayed only until lunchtime on Sundays, was also sitting on the porch, her hands twisting the apron.

When Sonny opened the passenger door and wrapped his arm carefully around James' shoulders, she rushed toward them and helped the two into the house. The boy looked exhausted, his face covered in scrapes, his clothes dirty and torn. James’ eyes were down as he couldn't face anyone.

Unable to approach, Dean stood at the foot of the stairs and watched the adults take care of the other boy. Sonny soon came downstairs and went into his office, his voice echoing through the corridors. He was probably talking to Hannah, reporting the incident and asking for directions. This was a very serious case.

There was an oppressive silence among the boys, for they were all acquainted to suffering, even though they were young.

One by one they began to go upstairs to their rooms.

Finally, there was only one boy still sitting on the brown sofa in the living room. His heart, heavy with guilt, could not make himself up the stairs and face James.

Sonny finally left the office and there was no way to hide his concern. He looked at Dean, but did not say a word, before heading up to his own room.


	5. Chapter 5

When Sonny called the boys the next morning, Dean was already awake. He'd been up all night, downstairs, thinking of what had happened. Before the usual wake-up time, he had finally climbed the steps leading to his room. He went in and looked, anguished, at the sleeping boy curled up in the bed next to his.

Dean took a shower and got ready to go to school. When Mrs. Mendez arrived, she found him already in the kitchen, looking apprehensive.

"Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well? "He asked softly.

"No, I didn’t, Mrs. Mendez ..."

"You are worried about the new kid, aren’t you?" She said, caressing his hair. "He'll be fine. Sonny will not let anything bad happen to him. "

"But he asked me ... and I ..." He began to babble, feeling guilty.

"Dean, what happened yesterday it's not your responsibility. The boys... they just wanted to play. But now they know James needs attention. "He smiled sadly. "He needs someone to care about him."

"All I wanted... I thought we could be friends."

"I know, Dean, and so does Sonny. Nobody blames you for anything. But maybe you'd better give him some space. You can still be friends... but not like this. Things like this can’t be forced. But when they should happen, they happen anyway. You sympathize with him, don’t you? "

The boy shook his head.

"Then don’t lose hope. Would you help me setting the table, please?"

When Sonny appeared at the kitchen door a few minutes later, he found the table ready for breakfast and Dean dozing on a plate under the cook's gentle gaze.

Around four o'clock the boys got off the school bus in front of the house.

They came walking and talking until they reached the house and saw that one of the social workers was there. Everyone knew why.

Dean looked up and at the second-story window he could see James's face, staring into the distance.

When he came in, Sonny called him out of the office.

He approached, a little fearful. Hannah sat there and looked sharply at him.

"Good afternoon, Dean. How was school? " Sonny asked.

"Well... OK..." he answered, not very sure.

"Sit with us for a moment, Dean. Hannah would like to talk to you. "

"Yes, Dean, Sonny told me the request he had made and what happened yesterday. I hope you're not feeling guilty. The fault is ours, in fact. "

Dean looked between their serious faces, hoping that they would explain to him how it could not be his fault.

"You see ... The boy we call James showed a few days ago in the city, coming from nowhere. When we brought him to the headquarters of the Child Services, we found that he had suffered severe violence. He refused to tell us who did it, his full name or where he came from. He was withdrawing with us and we thought of bringing him here. We thought that he could relate better to you boys without the stress of being all the time under the eyes of a social worker or psychologist. Sonny thought you had the profile to get close to him. "

Dean looked down in embarrassment.

"But we should have told you more, so you could have made better decisions. We were gravely wrong to give you such a great responsibility, even more so without adequate knowledge of the situation. Please forgive us, we should not have placed such a burden on your shoulders. "

Dean's brow furrowed. He was having trouble understanding all this. Responsibility was normal for him. Ever since he had looked after his brother while his father had gone to work, it did not frighten him. He only felt that he had hurt his room-mate by not realizing that he was not prepared to face the simpler situations of daily life.

"How... is he?" He asked in a whisper.

"He's calmer. He rested and underwent another medical examination."

Dean shook his head and swallowed.

"He's fine, Dean, nothing more serious happened yesterday. Physically, I mean. Emotionally, however, he is shaken. Not that he’s afraid of you, but he needs to be by himself for a while... He needs to feel the need to approach your. I ask you to be available if he needs company, if you still want to help. But I remind you that this may take some time. "

Dean wanted to try, but he did not know if he would be able to. After a few moments he nodded.

Sonny smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

Hannah kept talking for a few more minutes before she left. When she stood, she shook his hand firmly and thanked him.

Dean did not feel much better. Just a little less guilty, but that was commonplace in his life.

The week unfolded as expected. School, housework, homework, study, rest.

Dean tried to disguise his interest in what happened to the only boy who did not go to school with the rest of them. Sonny had told him that he had light tasks at home that did not exhaust him, and that he had slowly begun to talk to him and Mrs. Mendez. In the free moments, he usually isolated himself in some corner of the garden and read. Or else he would sit in the room for hours on end, staring out the window.

On Friday, as he got off the bus, Dean saw a car parked near the porch. Several of the boys whistled and started with indecent remarks. It seems that at last Mrs. Smith and her daughter Robin had returned to teach guitar lessons to whomever wished.

Upon entering the house, they found the two ladies sitting on the couch and between them, two guitars. Dean felt his ears burn as he remembered the comments Gordon and Luke had made about the young lady who was there to volunteer. She was a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties, accompanied by her teenager daughter. To Dean's utter embarrassment, it was the girl with whom he had flirted at the diner a few weeks before.

He tried to go unnoticed and disappear upstairs when Sonny called him.

"D-Dawg? Dean? Come and meet Mrs. Smith. "

He approached, looking only at the woman. The girl he could see from the corner of his eye smiled slightly.

"Dean is a 'Credence' fan, Ms. Smith. I think he'd be delighted if you could teach him to play ‘Bad Moon Rising’. "

"You have an excellent taste, young man. If you want to learn, feel free to ask." Upstairs, a mocking laugh told him that the boys were still talking and he wished the Earth would swallow him.

But his attention was diverted when James came in from the kitchen carrying a tray with a pitcher, some glasses, and a plate full of cookies.  There was a soft smile on his face, aimed at the female visitors.

His eyes then turned to Dean, after so many days. The smile was gone.

Robin motioned for James to sit beside her. He looked confused.

Dean apologized stammering some excuse and went upstairs. The tension in the room was too high for his taste. It made his head ache.

After dinner, when he went up to his room he found most of his roommates lying down, some studying, some already asleep. As usual, James was facing the opposite side, lightly snoring. He always came to bed directly after dinner, while some boys were still downstairs talking or watching TV.

Dean took off his T-shirt and folded it, as he always did. He sat down to take off his shoes and socks. The pants were last. Sonny touched the light switch, coming out of the hall to turn out the lights. He always made one last round to see if everything was all right.

In the dark, Dean leaned back on the pillow and sighed wearily. Turning to the wall he felt something under the pillow. He lifted his head a little and found two cookies wrapped in a napkin. He smiled. He suspected who might have left them there.

 

The next day was Saturday and this time it was James turn of going to town with Sonny. Dean envied the meal he was going to get there and also the meeting with the cute little diner girl, Robin. Dean thought she would probably get along with James. He had that fragile look and those large, needy blue eyes that could attract girls like honey attracts bees. Dean, as petulant as he always behaved, had not yet managed to kiss a girl. The fact that his little family never stayed for too long in the same place could also be the reason for that.

The situation made him sulk instantly. When his friends invited him to play ball in the afternoon, he didn't even bother to act in a civilized manner. Benny had mumbled something, but Victor seemed to know what bothered him:

"Robin and James, huh? I bet they're talking while Sonny talks to Mrs. Smith. Maybe what the boy needs is ... a special kiss from a girl to get well soon... "

Dean had just pouted and turned back to the book he was reading. As soon as his friends walked away, he ran upstairs to the bedroom and sulked.

When James arrived and came to the bedroom, he made it a point to go downstairs and talk to the other boys. When it came time for the movie he was in his favorite spot, with no visible sign of James nearby.

He just wanted to forget that whole mess and focus on the story of Conan, the Cimmerian warrior and his adventures.

Sunday came and found Dean sprawled on the bed on his stomach, drooling on his pillow. He had been too excited about the movie and it took him a while to fall asleep.

When he finally got up and went downstairs,  only Sonny and James were still at the table, Mrs. Mendez hummed an old tune while she washed the dishes. He sat down after some muttered greetings, seeing that there were no more pancakes. Benny and the others had already eaten and left for their Sunday activities.

He was determined to sulk again just as James got up and set three syrup-covered pancakes on his plate. Surprised, Dean looked up to find a soft expression on the roommate's face, one that, with a little encouragement, could turn into a smile.

He felt immediately more cheerful because of the pancakes, so he smiled and said:

"Thank you, Jimmy."

That gesture and the cookies from a few days before had been enough to show Dean that James wanted to try being his friend again.

But he still felt a little guilty and waited until James came to talk when he felt ready.

Dean  sat on the porch with a book in his hands. In a few minutes James had sat down beside him, his own book open in front of his face. They read in a shared silence for some time, but Dean began to feel uneasy.

“What is the book you're reading about?" Dean asked turning the cover of James’ book to look at it.

"It's about the Peloponnesian War. I found it in Sonny's office."

"Pelopo... what?"

"It's about the war between Sparta and Athens... Remember? From school?"

"Vaguely!" He replied, laughing. "Are you one of those straight A guys?" He asked. After a moment he regretted the question, upon seeing a sad look on James’ face.

James stuttered as he replied:

"Yes, I am... was... a good student," he said, lowering his eyes.

"I can’t say that I have stayed in the same place time enough to learn anything... I'd like to know how Sammy always learns everything."

"Sammy?"

"My little brother. He is a genius. I think you two guys would get along. "

"I did not know you had... family," James continued, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"I have a father and a brother. But my dear father decided to let me spend some time here with Sonny..." A laugh tried to hide the sadness that showed in the green eyes.

"Sorry, Dean, I did not mean to intrude ..."

"Don’t worry about it," he said, smiling. "Are you going to tell me more about this Peloponnesian War or will I have to tell you about the adventures of Gandalf and the Fellowship of the Ring?"

"Gandalf?"

"Nice nerd you are, huh? Haven’t you ever heard of 'The Lord of the Rings'? "

When the Benny and Victor came back to the house they found Dean and James in deep conversation. Though James had not told him anything of more personal nature - and Dean felt somehow grateful for it, knowing he would have to report what he found out to Sonny - they had discussed books, films (the few that James knew - his lack of knowledge about pop culture was impressive) and their daily activities.

Benny, as they passed by, had patted Dean's back somewhat violently, which made James feel a little uneasy. But he sensed that Benny wasn't violent or dangerous. He was just a boy who couldn't express what he felt in a different manner.

As they sat side by side at the dinner table, Mrs. Mendez smiled and winked to Sonny. She was right. The boys only needed time.


	6. Chapter 6

The week unfolded within the established routine. Dean felt better now that he could look his room-mate in the eye and talk to him without fear. Each day he seemed a little less shy and sought to know the other boys, little by little. Garth and James became fast friends, perhaps because of an instinctive connection, since the former had been taken from an abusive home about a year earlier.

Although Sonny had more opportunity to work with teenagers who committed infractions, occasionally he had to help some young man who needed a stable and structured place to recover before they could try a foster home. But many, like Garth himself, would probably reach their eighteen years of age right there and would be emancipated without formally entering the foster home system, even if the home they were in was not an equal substitute.

Sonny could not think of himself as a father, but he was a strong male presence and possessed, even if he was uncertain about it, a pretty perceptible paternal calling.

James's situation was different. Hannah had sent his photo to several agencies that dealt with teenagers, trying to locate his family, if there was one. Unfortunately she was aware that he probably did not want to be found and that he had provided a false name. Eventually he would be identified and then they would have to deal with the legal situation of who would be responsible for the boy. The issue of the aggression, if proven to be inflicted in his own home, could result in family members losing legal custody and being criminally penalized.

But there were no leads at that point and he remained there, under a name that was not his, recovering from his physical scars. His emotional scars should be even deeper and harder to heal.

On Friday Dean came home from school in an awful humor. He'd had to come on the bus, listening to Gordon and his friends' utterly indecent remarks about the women who were waiting for them at home. They took advantage of their good will and pretended they really wanted to learn how to play. Sonny would never let anything out of line happen, not even a word, but just to know the sordid things those three thought and had no problem in stating out loud when they were alone, made Dean's stomach turn.

As they entered the room, James was on the couch, sitting between the two women, the guitar in his hands. Mrs. Smith was showing him something, while Robin seemed only to look at the boy's face, his long hair falling over his eyes.

As soon as Gordon entered, not inconspicuously dropping his school supplies on the floor beside the sofa, Mrs. Smith greeted him and offered a space beside her on the couch.

Dean was boiling inside, thinking of the boy's behavior, abusing the volunteer's good faith.

Robin, on the other hand, lifted a hand and pulled a dark lock of hair from James's forehead with a gentle smile. Dean could not stand there and witness it all at once. He retired to the bedroom, intending to get downstairs only when the women's car had left the property.

At night, still in a bad mood, he went downstairs to dinner, only to find a different James. His hair had been trimmed and he now had a forehead and a pair of even more prominent blue eyes. He could not help but stare, for he seemed even younger and helpless without the hair barrier between him and the world.

He sat down beside him at the table, still silent. But soon James began a conversation, telling how Mrs. Smith had offered to cut his hair. She was a good woman, he added, without the malice ever present in the speech of some others.

After the meal James told him that he intended to go back to school because he missed the academic environment. Dean laughed at the term, thinking how little "academic" Eric Kripke High School's environment could be at times. On the other hand, he felt that this could be an evolution for the boy who had arrived there in a state of deep isolation.

Dean accompanied him to Sonny's office and they settled the situation. Sonny called Hannah's private phone. She informed them that James could start school activities mid-week, as soon as legal procedures were in place.

James had made a very logical request: he would like to be exempted from PE classes, at least until his injuries were completely healed. Sonny and Hannah agreed to the request but Dean was a bit disappointed because James could not be part of the wrestling team, an activity that he had joined and that gave him great pleasure. It was also a healthy way of dealing with his aggressive impulses.

He smiled later, when the bedroom was dark, thinking that James would probably end up as a member of the Chess or Math Club. They were friends, but some differences were impossible to ignore.

They talked on their way to and back from school. They sat together at the bus and there was always something to talk about.

James had adapted very well to high school and had already begun to stand out as one of the best students in his class. His development was much better than Hannah had foreseen.

But one afternoon when they arrived from school, the social worker's car was parked in the shade of the huge oak tree in front of the house.

They were accustomed to the periodic visits of Hannah and other professionals of Child Services. It could be someone coming or going. They could bring some good news for someone, some discouraging news for someone else.

Sonny called James as he entered and closed the office door behind them. A curious Dean had to wait for the conclusion of the private meeting.

James found him, an hour later, as he sat at the kitchen table doing his History homework. His behavior seemed to have regressed to its previous state and his eyes held deep concern.

"Dean, I... Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your homework..."

"In my book friendship comes before school, James. If you need to talk, I'm here. "

A light shone in the eyes that, a moment before, only seemed to contain apprehension and fear. Dean closed the book and the notebook, looking at James with interest.

"Not here ... could we go outside for a bit?"

"Sure ... whatever you say, man," he said, putting the school supplies on a shelf.

James and Dean left the house and walked until they reached the edge of the creek in the back. They sat on a bench under a tree. Dean was equally curious and fearful of what he would hear from the other boy.

"Well, Dean ... I think I owe you an apology to begin with."

"Apology? Why? "He asked a little anxiously then regretted it, for he did not want to put pressure on him. When James didn’t immediately answer, he gently called:

"James? What's the problem?"

"I’m not... my name is not James, Dean. I... needed to try to hide my identity... I couldn't... go home. "

"What is your name, then, if I may ask?"

"Castiel. Castiel Novak. "

"Cast ... Castiel ... I've never heard that name before..."

"It's a religious name... The name of an angel. That's the root of my problems."

Dean had not had a religious-based education, due to the extinction of his father's faith since the death of his mother, murdered by a demon. But he couldn’t tell that his friend. Maybe someday he might share his secrets with Castiel, too.

"It's kind of a mouthful ... can I call you Cas?"

"As you wish. If you still think I deserve to be your friend after so much lack of honesty... "

"We all have our secrets. I don't blame you for doing what you thought best in the situation. "

"Hannah finally discovered my name. My stay here may be a short-time thing... "

Dean wanted to know more, but he would not be rude and ask, not just when Cas seemed so vulnerable. He remained there, silent, waiting for Cas to continue, if he thought it appropriate.

"When they found me wandering around town I had been on the run for some time, Dean. The story is long and if you're willing, I'll tell you little by little. I'm just telling you that I ran away from the person who hurt me the way you and the boys saw. He's my legal guardian. "

"But if he... did this to you... will not he lose the right to be your guardian?"

"That's what Hannah came to tell me. He's an influential person and wants me back home... But she and Sonny are determined to fight so I can stay here until I'm eighteen, when I'll be considered an adult and an independent person."

"And how long will that take?" Dean realized that he had come to assume that Cas was about his age or a little younger, but that he did not really know much about the boy at his side.

"Seven months. If they could keep me here until then... I'll be free. "

Castiel was almost two years older than him! His fragile appearance had interfered with his perception. But he must have taken into account what he saw in those sad eyes.

Dean, without thinking, touched his shoulder reminding himself too late that he could shy away at the gesture. But contrary to what he expected, Castiel accepted the support and smiled slightly, surprising him.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Castiel trusted him and really considered him a friend.

 


	7. Chapter 7

As the days went by, Castiel told Dean his story. After school, they found a place to talk without interruption, so that Castiel could narrate the facts of his life. It was a difficult task, and he couldn’t speak for a long before feeling exhausted. Dean interrupted when he realized that it had become too much for the other boy.

Castiel had been born in a very poor community. His mother, abandoned by her husband, struggled to raise her five children. Castiel was the youngest. He did not have much memory of that time.

A religious group provided food and clothing to their community and one day the pastor in charge, Chuck Shurley, met his family and noticed the tiny baby with huge blue eyes.

His natural children had already left the paternal house and he decided to adopt the baby whose name was James. Chuck’s wife agreed accepting him as one of her own children. They legally changed his name to Castiel and gave him their surname.

That addition undoubtedly brought some concerns to his foster brothers since it was a wealthy family. But the Shurleys loved the boy too much to leave him helpless.

Until the age of nine Castiel had a very happy life with Pastor Shurley and his wife, who he affectionately called Father and Mother even though he knew his biological family. The contact with his true family was encouraged by the pastor but they ended up moving away when Amelia Novak remarried.

Castiel had been a boy who, from an early age, had aided the family's mission. They preached that love and kindness should go together in order to improve the lives of those in need.

When Becky Shurley passed away Chuck seemed to lose interest in life, leaving the administration of his business and the church in the hands of a distant cousin, Zachariah Adler.

When Castiel's father died a few months later, devastated by the loss of his wife, Castiel ended up under the legal guardianship of that cousin. His ‘brothers’ did not want to take care of him, all involved with their own lives to worry with a child who was not related to them by blood ties.

Zachariah was an inflexible and radical person. Where there had been love and understanding, he preached discipline and self-flagellation. Castiel lived in hell, suffering punishment and deprivation

This situation has lingered for years, undermining the health of the boy who had been so happy under the Shurley family tutelage.

When he entered puberty and had experienced some psychological problems, Zachariah correlated the boy's symptoms initially with the sin he attributed to his natural parents. Later, when the problems got worse, he started believing in demonic possession.

At this point Dean swallowed hard. He didn’t know if the boy believed that, but he knew too much about demons to fear for his friend. Later, when he had the opportunity, he would have to learn more about it.

But as a safety measure he uttered a word as if it were an interjection to Zachariah's attitude:

" _Christo_!" He said softly, searching for real signs of possession. Anything. If he had really been possessed in the past, he was not at the present moment.               

Castiel had looked at him with a puzzled expression. He had never heard that word before.

Dean suggested that he continue the story, but he was now really concerned.

Concluding his story without going into too much detail, for this was clearly too painful to remember, he told of the encouragement of self-flagellation. It was one of the distorted, medieval methods preached by Zachariah and his followers and the subsequent beatings when they thought that punishment was not enough.

He had suffered in silence for years. His schoolwork had started to suffer and he had left school. Castiel knew that this had happened so no one could check the abuses he was subjected to at home.

Finally he had reached a stage where he could no longer endure that situation. He had considered suicide, but his father's Christian teachings were strong in him. Running away was the only alternative.

He had saved some money and traveled far, crossing two or three States. When his funds were gone, which happened faster than he had anticipated, he ended on the streets. It was when Hannah had rescued him and he had ended up in Sonny's hands.

Dean had been dismayed to hear it all from the lips of a boy a few months older than he. It was too much suffering for a boy so young. Thinking about his own story, he felt that even though his life was difficult, Sam and he would never leave each other. At least they had that.

Right now, the only thing he wanted was that Cas would never fall into the hands of that sadist again. For a moment Dean fantasized about a family of hunters, three brothers and their father, crossing the country in an Impala 67, hunting monsters and saving lives.

He decided that it was only fair and he would also tell Castiel his own secrets. Maybe someday his wish could come true.


	8. Chapter 8

The decision to tell Cas his secrets was easy, for he felt that his friend was trustworthy and would hear his stories sympathetically. Doing the talking was a different matter, with the ideas instilled by the father present all the time. John had told Dean that he should never reveal anything about what they did, otherwise he would face incredulity not to mention the possibility of being criminalized for their way of life, which included some aspects that conflicted with the law.

But he was indebted to the friend who had opened up to him and shared all the sorrows he had in his life.

After a few days when he felt the words fill his chest he managed to invite Cas to sit on the same bench where he had heard his friend's story.

Dean had been able to see how that process had alleviated his pain and that Cas was more at ease. He had begun to relate better to the other boys and he wasn’t so sad all the time. He felt that he probably would go through a similar process. It was very difficult to have all those experiences locked in all the time.

Castiel may have sensed what would come, for his attitude was more receptive than usual. With a a soft smile on his face he looked away into the dark sky and said something about rain, not wanting put pressure on Dean.

Dean looked up too. He felt his heart too heavy when he saw the dark clouds. Soon, the rain would fall.

Taking that as a cue, he finally let the floodgates open and he began to tell everything he had ever lived, beginning with his mother's traumatic death.

Faced with the dismal report of the fire, Castiel's face softened even more, his feelings about the loss of his parents finally finding reflection in someone, even if the circumstances were so different. He realized that in both stories the immense sadness they carried within themselves came from the same feeling. Dean's hands were gripping the edge of the bench, his knuckles white with tension. Castiel patted one of them lightly in a sympathetic gesture.

Dean almost stopped there, wishing he could only tell of the nomadic life they had been living since that day, without going into the compromising details. But he forced himself to keep talking and talking, until everything had been expelled from his chest: his love for his brother, his loyalty to his father, his responsibility to the small family.

He breathed slowly, trying to gather courage to talk about their unusual line of work and about  the monetary schemes that guaranteed their survival. He even talked about the existence of a network of other people living the same kind of life, including the man he considered as a second father, Bobby Singer.

Dean finished by telling Castiel about his mother’s murderer.

Castiel had heard everything in silence. If there was any reaction, it was never to question anything. In his heart, even if everything looked like a fantasy from Dean’s mind, something told him that if Dean believed all that, he shouldn’t question it. Dean seemed honest and Castiel accepted the story as true. He remembered suddenly what he had suffered because of the suspicion of demonic possession.

He questioned Dean about it. Dean explained what he knew about the matter but he had no way of knowing if Cas had even been possessed.

The fact disturbed the dark-haired boy a bit, but that was not the time to focus on how he felt, but to show Dean that he considered that moment of candor a test of their friendship.

He touched Dean’s shoulder and smiled, showing support for the young man who looked exhausted. Castiel  told him they should get ready for dinner, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Dean thought everything had gone better than he had anticipated. He felt that the two of them now had a deeper bond. He had never known friendship like that.

 

Dean woke to the clap of thunder. The house seemed to shake with the sound. Opening his eyes as he turned, he found Cas sitting on his bed, looking out of the window. An electric storm was unfolding in the dark night sky and the boy beside him was a fascinated spectator. His face was suddenly lit by lightning and a soft smile played on his lips.

As a reflection, Dean also smiled.  He saw joy in Castiel’s face. Dean had come to consider Castiel the best friend he'd ever had. It was an impressive vision.

"Hey, Cas. Are you afraid of the storm? "He murmured, leaning on one elbow so he could look out too.

"I love storms. They make me feel... free. I don’t know how to explain it, but... I feel alive... Do you understand? " He said, his face conveying his vivacity through his eyes.

"I don’t know if I understand ... but storms are awesome."

"It has not started raining yet... The air is full of... promises." he finished, his gaze lost in the distance. Immediately after thick raindrops began to batter against the glass he could no longer restrain himself. He stood up and put on his sneakers.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, somewhat alarmed.

“I’m going to watch it closely... Do you want come with me?"

"Cas ..." he began to babble but Castiel had quietly left the room. He slipped on his shoes and followed as if he really had a choice.

Dean found him standing in front of the open door, watching the abundant water falling from the sky, lightning and thunder gone for the time being. The summer storm cooled the oppressive heat of the night, infusing an unheard of energy into Castiel.

"I prayed so much... I asked for a sign" Castiel said in a low voice. "This storm... is my answer. Everything's going to be all right, Dean. I know. I know now!" Dean was surprised that he had not lost faith even after all he had suffered at the hands of his fanatic cousin.

Without warning, the dark-haired boy discarded his shoes and ran to the porch, then down the steps. The tall grass, saturated with fresh water, found the soles of his feet and he laughed, turning toward the house.

He waved to his friend who was still on the porch. At the other's incredulous gaze, he began to run toward the woods that flanked the river.

Dean, forgetting to kick his boots away, ran splashing in the puddles that had formed in just minutes. He found his friend, standing face up, arms wide open, receiving the drops as if they were a balm sent from Heaven especially for him.

Dean approached slowly and stood in front of Castiel, watching the transformation before his eyes.

The wounded and isolated creature he had come to know better, little by little, in those weeks, was transformed into a vivacious young man, touched by the simplicity of a summer rain. The reconstruction of the human being that was Castiel was complete.

Maybe his behavior was caused by memories of a distant, happier time... Or maybe the feeling that there was someone up there looking at him and that could send him some relief. Dean then realized that _that boy was Castiel_ \- that haughty, carefree boy, whose vitality was expressed through a penetrating gaze and a contagious smile.

When Castiel’a arms wrapped around Dean in a warm embrace he could do nothing more than return the gesture. Immediately he came to regret it though, when his heart pounded in his chest. What was the matter with him that the closeness of his best friend made him feel that way?

Trying to pull away without breaking the almost surreal moment of joy that hit Castiel, he was caught by his gaze. His yes shone with the feelings he had inside. Cas’ smile faded for a moment, before his soft lips touched Dean's.

Dean remained still for a fraction of a second, stunned by the touch of the other boy's lips. The contact, though gentle was firm and welcoming, and  Dean accepted it at last, closing his eyes instinctively.

That kiss was all Dean had feared, but he knew now that some part of his being craved it. And there he was, opening his lips to share with Castiel the joy of the moment and inside him something told him that it was... That there was nothing more perfect, nothing more suited for him than to find himself in his friend’s arms. The friend who was the only person in the world he had shared his darkest secrets with.

When Castiel’s tongue touched his, it was as if the moment crystallized into a beautiful work of art. He knew he would never be able to erase that picture – and that feeling - from his memory.

Abruptly as it had begun, the kiss came to an end.

Castiel's face was happy again, his eyes blinking rapidly from the droplets that ran down his hair. He acted as if the kiss was the most natural reaction to the rain.

As easily as they had wrapped themselves around Dean his arms moved away and the dark-haired boy lifted them up to the sky, closing his eyes again.

Dean, still in shock, felt a little numb, his eyes fixed on his friend. The rain was beginning to subside. On the horizon the dawn was coming and the heavy clouds of the day before had vanished.

Castiel still smiling sighed and started to walk slowly toward the house, followed closely by Dean. He seemed not to know what to do other than to accompany him back, even when his legs longed to run away. He needed a moment so his head and his heart could finally come to an agreement.

The raindrops hung from the branches and leaves, balancing on the eaves of the cozy house where the two boys lived. The windows, still dark, reflected the tranquility that had descended upon the world, the fury of the heavens gone to give way to a new day.  A sunny day.

Neither of them knew what to say, both of them still too involved in the particular experiences they had. Their glances, however, hardly moved away from each other.

As they climbed the porch steps, their clothes clung to their bodies. They left a wet trail behind them. As soon as they entered the house they found a reprimand in Sonny's eyes. Faced with the image of the two friends and the happiness emanating so vividly from Castiel Sonny could only shake his head, hide a smile, and tell them to go change and return downstairs to clean the floor.

Mrs. Mendez would soon arrive, the other boys would be awakened to take up their daily duties, and the almost absolute silence of the world at that moment would be broken by daily activity.

Dean's mind was in a state of confusion as he climbed up the stairs beside Castiel. What had happened that night had shook many of his beliefs and he was grateful that his father was far away.

The boys cleaned the wet floor quickly, since they did not want Mrs. Mendez to scold them when she arrived. Dean hardly looked at Castiel, overcome by a conflicting sensation. He was not sure how to define what was going on in his mind: what had happened between them was pleasant, engaging, and even a pleasurable experience. At that thought, his heart skipped a beat. On the other hand, some prejudices from paternal education distressed him profoundly.

Castiel gradually seemed to feel Dean's hesitation in facing him. He started to fear that what had happened between them could change their friendship forever.

As soon as he could, Castiel left to give the other boy some room to think, even though he feared losing Dean's afection. But he could not avoid the warmth in his heart as he remembered the thrilling encounter in the rain.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean sat, as usual, next to Cas on the school bus, but between them was an uncomfortable silence. Castiel did not want to force his friend into a conversation he was not ready for, but he didn’t regret kissing him. It was the best experience of his life. But he thought he should have talked more to Dean before he assumed that Dean reciprocated his feelings.

The freckled boy was visibly embarrassed, holding his books too tight against his thighs. Castiel tried to look away, to be distracted by the events around him, like the boys making a commotion on the last seats of the vehicle. The driver had threatened to stop and go there at least twice that day. Mrs. Connors was quite patient but the noise was unbearable while Gordon spoke loudly and laughs from his "minions" as they tossed the backpack of one of the smaller boys from one side to the other.

Cas had never noticed the road  to school or the dynamics of that occurred every day in the bus, always too entertained in his conversations with Dean. He thought sadly of what it would be like if he had to go on without the friendship of the boy who had helped him so much since he'd gotten there. The prospect was daunting.

Dean, on the other hand, tried to hide from Cas that inside it there was a huge conflict, without much success. Even if he had accepted and reciprocated the kiss, enjoying intimately being the object of affection of someone as special as Cas, he could not help but imagine his father's reaction to knowing that he had shared his first kiss with another boy.

He was too frightened by the prospect of being homosexual. Castiel did not seem bothered by his own sexual orientation or by the experimentation, if that was the case. He had seemed to think it was natural and he showed no regret.

And that was what really bothered Dean: he did not really regretted it but he was unable to say that to Cas. He was scared, his mind full of fear and prejudice. He did not want to hurt his friend feelings and yet he knew his silence was doing just that.

They arrived at school and when it was time to go to their own classrooms Dean finally turned to Cas:

"I ... I have wrestling practice today ... after class," he said, his voice less sure than he would like. "The team is training for next Saturday's competition."

Castiel, just nodded, even though he remembered the fact because Dean have reported many times the anxiety he felt for finally being part of a sports team. He asked:

"Do you... want me to wait for you? I can study in the library until the end of your training."

Dean, confused as he was about his own feelings, thought that kind of thing what was ‘boyfriends’ did. Even though that attitude had never bothered him before.

"No, you don’t have to... Sonny are coming to town to do some shopping today and I..." he cleared his throat, noticing how difficult it was saying that "He’s going to give me a ride back."

Castiel smiled, swallowing the hurt. Dean needed time and was going to give it to him. Even if that was the end of their friendship.

Dean walked slowly to the place he would meet Sonny. They would meet at Cus' Place, the usual diner Sonny took the young people on Saturdays. He pushed the door open and went in, searching for the tall man in the crowded room.

He had not yet arrived. Finding the only free table he sat down and looked at the menu not with his usual appetite.

Before she could reach the end of the first page Robin came by the table and smiled. Dean remembered their first exchange and how frustrated he was afterwards. But now they’ve already been introduced and maybe he should try again. Yes, he should try again. He needed to learn more about himself after _that_ kiss. He was really confused, as he had always believed he was only attracted to girls. Cas made him feel differently, but he was not sure.

He _had_ to try.

After a few moments making small talk, Dean did not miss the opportunity:

"There’s a dance… at school… two weeks from now. Would you like to go with me?"

The girl's face brightened and the smile on her lips grew even larger:

"I have to ask my mother but ... I'd like that! May I... answer you on Friday? "

Dean immediately felt better for the girl's reaction. He felt that he finally made some progress.

"Okay, I'm waiting for your definitive answer on Friday."

She pulled away, almost skipping, and Dean felt a little more confident, for the first time since last night.

Sonny came in and sat down wondering at the absence of Castiel, since those two boys were inseparable lately.

"Cas didn’t come with you?"

"N-n-no... I said that I had practice and that I would meet you later... So..."

The paternal gaze searched the blushing face that  in front of him. He didn’t say a word but he felt something was not right and yet he knew Dean very well by then to begin an interrogation.

Robin came back to write down the orders and seemed as effusive as ever. Sonny looked at her then at Dean and noticed that at last he seemed to be responding to the boy's advances. _Good_ , he thought. On the other hand he was suspicious of why Castiel was not there.

The distance between the two boys grew in the following days. Cas had the intention of giving Dean some space so he began spending more time with Garth. The boy also needed friends, and Castiel felt guilty for never giving him enough attention. He would try to help him somehow.

When Friday came Dean was almost mad with anxiety. Robin had promised him an answer. He feared the worst now that the time had came.

He walked fast to be the first to get to the house leaving the rest of the boys behind. Castiel noticed it but he decided to focus on the story that Garth was telling him.

Dean found Robin sitting in the living room with his mother. They both smiled at him and he felt his cheeks burn. Sensing that Mrs. Smith had authorized Robin to go to the school dance with Dean he asked if she would like to have some iced tea in the kitchen. There they could talk alone for a moment.

The girl followed him without hesitation. He was nervous, but he had to do it. Robin was beautiful and friendly, definitely very attractive. _More attractive than... Castiel_ , he thought, feeling a little guilty. He remembered the times he had seen Robin and Castiel together and felt jealous. He'd been sure he felt jealous of Robin but after the kiss he was not so sure.

He was going to settle that straight away. As he poured tea into two tall glasses he trembled a bit with anticipation. How would she react when he kissed her?

He approached her with the glasses in his hands. When he handed one to her their fingers brushed and the girl smiled. He took a sip, trying to calm himself. As he put the glass on the table Robin's lips met his.

The girl had taken the lead, stealing from Dean the opportunity to do it by his own initiative.

Her soft and cold lips brushed delicately against his. Dean eagerly opened his mouth and reached for the seam of her lips. After a moment she opened them to deepen the kiss.

Startled by the voices in the next room they parted. Their faces were flushed.

"We should go back to the living room... The boys are coming to class. Well, my mother allowed me to go to the dance with you as you must have already suspected."

Dean was still a little shaken and did not know what to say so he just nodded.

She took his hand and pulled him back into the living room, but Dean let go of it as he saw Castiel talking to Mrs. Smith while Gordon came in through the front door.

Dean would like to think he had let go of Robin's hand so he would not suffer from Gordon's comments but he was not so sure.

The kiss... Unfortunately it had not been enough to put an end to his confusion.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean was thinking while the dim light of dawn came through the window. He had not been able to sleep, the thoughts too loud inside his head. He couldn't relax.

He had tried looking at the problem from different angles but it remained unsolved. He tried to compare the kisses... They were different, even if he had been the recipient in both occasions. But with Robin  he had at least done something to provoke it. Or had Castiel given him any clues before that night? As much as he thought, he could not remember anything in particular. He had simply kissed him without warning.

He thought of the moments of discomfort and jealousy he had felt when he had seen them together. Had he been jealous of whom? He could not imagine feeling something like that for Cas, but now he was not entirely sure. A speck of doubt lingered within.

Finally he try to answer the main question: feelings. Castiel was his friend. Robin... was a beautiful girl who had attracted Dean since the first time he had seen her.  He didn’t really know her.

But when he remembered the touch of Cas's lips, something inside him was pleased when he thought he should be angry. He remembered every moment of that unexpected kiss: the focused look, the determined movement, the strong arms that embraced him, the softness of his lips, the contrast between the warmth of his mouth and the cold water, the taste of Cas’ mouth... Something definitely went against what his mind dictated, because his teenager body seemed much more excited about that memory than the kiss he shared with the girl that afternoon. Turning in bed, uncomfortable, he tried to come to some conclusion.

Cas' kiss had been his first. He had tried to convince himself that someone's first kiss had to be exciting. It had been unexpected in more ways than one. There was an element of... It was kind of... forbidden. This should probably be the reason of all his confusion.

 _Yes, it must have been that_.

But his mind, treacherously, asked him why he avoided looking at the boy sleeping in the next bed, snoring softly.

On Saturday, Dean woke up in a daze. He had slept badly and the competition was that afternoon. Victor and he were part of the wrestling team and they had been training hard, wishing to win the competition for Eric Kripke High.

Sonny had said that he would take anyone who wanted to watch the competition, because he didn't intend to miss the event. Dean thought about how his father would probably be too busy to go and get Sam to watch him compete.

Victor had been up for a long time when he came to call Dean, who was still curled up in bed. He was the only one still upstairs and Sonny had sent him to see if he was OK. The freckled young man had thought of faking some illness and ending it all there, but his pride had won the battle. He had never had such an opportunity before, so he should put his fear aside and face the competition. He got up, got a special breakfast from Mrs. Mendez and tried to calm down, walking along the river for some time.

When the bus came to pick them up, he saw Castiel sitting on the porch, a book in his hands. He did not know if he was going to cheer for him that day, but he knew that his friendship, their conversations... He missed all that. A lot. He was the only one who knew his secrets and weaknesses. He couldn’t tell Victor or Benny how nervous he was and how he feared he wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. The fear of failure was suffocating and it threatened to swallow him whole.

Several school teams of the region made their appearance in front of the judges' table when they were called.

Dean’s team in its white and green uniforms was composed of six athletes. Victor was the strongest of them. He had broad shoulders and his arms were strengthened by farm work. But Dean and the other classmates were not lacking in courage and determination. The coach had said they were the best team in their high school in many decades.

When they returned to the waiting area, Dean scanned the bleachers, looking for Sonny, whose figure always stood out. He soon found him and saw that he  brought all the boys and also Mrs. Mendez to watch the competition. Seeing his ‘family’ there made him feel at the same time happy and burdened with responsibility.

Soon the students were called in for the first matches, the teams facing each other in a qualifying system. Dean watched as one of his team-mates defeated the first opponent and advanced to the later stage. Turning his eyes to the place Sonny was he found Benny's smiling face. Farther to the right, along the line, Castiel stared at him intensely, as if he could absorb a little of the anxiety he knew his friend was feeling.

Dean would be part of the third match. Rising from the bench, he reached out and took off his sweatshirt, revealing his uniform, a short, tight, sleeveless jumpsuit, green with white tabs and the school crest printed on one of his thighs.

Taking a deep breath, he wished he could believe, like Cas, in a superior force to ask for protection and support.  He wished, unconsciously, that the dark-haired boy would pray for him. When he realized that he would do it anyway, he relaxed and walked decisively to the place of the match.

It was a fierce fight, which Dean won by merit. He heard the encouragement of his friends and smiled at them.

Four athletes of his team had gone on to the next phase, among them Victor and Dean.

The matches continued and both boys won again.

Shortly thereafter, there were only eight boys left of the nearly fifty who had started the competition. Sonny's boys were two of them.

The final four matches put Victor and Dean against students from different schools. They had already won the team title for having qualified two for the semi final stage. From now on, the matches aimed at the individual championship.

The confrontations would occur in parallel and the four finalists would be announced at the end of them. Victor's match was decided by points, while Dean defeated his for immobilizing his opponent.

The remaining four athletes were paired and the matches began. Dean was the winner again and he would decide the title against Victor, to the delight of their colleagues and friends.

Dean was feeling a little intimidated again. He had faced all his opponents with respect and skillfully beaten all of them but when he thought about facing the tough boy he knew so well he felt inferior.

Both boys looked at the bleachers before they started the match. All eyes were on them. Sonny was beaming with pride and the boys were smiling. Their house had the two finalists, after all.

Before turning his eyes to his opponent, Dean did not even notice that he looked for Castiel's face one last time. There, instead of fear and sadness he saw confidence and pride. He smiled and made a positive gesture.

 _‘You can do that’._  That was what Castiel told him with his stare. It was a matter of faith and Cas' support once again made him feel whole and that he was capable of winning.

Given the sign, they docked, using smart movements of hands and arms to try to immobilize or knock down the opponent. Dean realized that Victor was not sparing him, determined to win. He felt that this could be his advantage in the match.

By the end of the first round, Dean had a little advantage. He would win if he could get ten points or pin Victor to the mat.

The second round started and Victor was determined to end the confrontation as soon as possible. He pushed Dean toward the edge of the field, grabbing his arms and trying to knock him down, what was really difficult when he couldn’t use his legs to strike.

But in the midst of Victor's self-confidence Dean notice a moment of carelessness and he overthrew him, struggling to keep him immobilized for the time needed.

Victor struggled bravely, trying to free himself from Dean's grip. But the boy, raised in a family of hunters, had faced much worse.  He was declared the winner of the last match.

Benny led their group down from the bleachers. The boys entered the court and raised Dean over their shoulders, but he judges reprimanded them and made them return to their places. 

Sonny couldn’t contain his pride by having the the champions of that tournament under his tutelage.

Dean and Victor took the podium side by side and they received medals and certificates.

When the festivities had closed, before retiring to the locker room, Dean ran toward Sonny, the man who had always shown confidence in him. In an emotional gesture he handed him the certificate. They hugged, celebrating not only the victory but the fact that they were part of a family.

Smiling, Dean pulled away a little and finally allowed himself to look at Castiel. He showed pride and joy on his face. Dean, unable to help himself, held out his hand to him, saying:

"Thank you, Cas... for believing me."

Castiel raised his eyebrows a little because he thought it was what Dean deserved. Believing in one another was a big part of what it meant to be a friend.

"Always," he answered in a low voice.

Finally, feeling very sweaty and aware of his figure in that extremely revealing uniform, he said goodbye to everyone and went to change.

Sonny produced a picture frame and hung Dean's certificate on the wall by the stairs, along with the other mementos of so many young men who had stayed there before. Many boys had been able to bring joy to the master of the house and Dean would certainly be remembered, not only for his sporting achievement, but for his generous nature and his brave heart.

Dean cast a glance at Castiel while lying in bed that night. Cas was lying with his back to him. Dean realized how he missed his best friend and decided to put an end to all that trouble:

"Cas..." he whispered.

The other boy turned toward him and smiled shyly.

"I ... I need to apologize. I was not nice these last days... "

"Please, Dean, don’t worry. It was my fault. But if you can… please forget what happened... "

"I ..." he began, not knowing what he was going to say next. One thing was certain: "...I can’t lose your friendship."

That had to be enough for now. It was all he could do when his heart had clearly not yet been able to decide.

"I will always be your friend, Dean." It was Cas’ honest answer.

Dean leaned back and within seconds he was asleep.

Castiel remained for a long time watching his friend while he slept.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean tried to get back to what they were before. But when he woke up he already felt that it would be a greater effort than he had imagined.

The smile that Cas had given him while telling him 'good morning’ was a sign that he had left behind the discomfort of the previous week. Dean tried to do the same, but he light pang in his chest was still there though. Why should there be any doubt in his heart when he sought only the friendship he had almost lost? He hoped it could go away. Maybe it would disappear when they resumed their previous camaraderie.

It was Sunday and they had the day off. Deciding what they would do on the hot sunny day was tricky, as most of the guys went swimming. But that was out of the question, since Cas was still trying to hide his scars. At breakfast they discussed the possibilities. Sonny listened to the conversation without interfering. He had noticed that something had happened between them, a strangeness hovering in the air in the days before the school competition, but he had said nothing. Apparently they were best friends again.

Castiel knew that probably Dean wouldn’t go swimming, even if he wanted to. Dean would say he wouldn’t like to go because of him and he couldn’t let him do it:

"Dean, it’s a sunny day... Benny and the others are going swimming. Go with them, please. I ... I need to finish the summary of that book and ..."

"No homework today, Cas. It's Sunday. And no, I don’t want to go swimming. "

Realizing the reason for the discussion Sonny addressed them both, folding the newspaper he was reading in half:

"I just read that there's going to be a Star Wars marathon today... I think Dean deserves a prize for yesterday's victory. Why don’t you both go to town? If you like, I'll ask Mrs. Mendez to take you there. "

Dean's face brightened at the mention of the movies he loved. Besides, Cas had never watched them, so it was the perfect opportunity.

"Do you want to go, Cas?" He asked anxiously.

"I think it's my chance to watch Star Wars..." he said as he saw the excitement in Dean’s eyes.

All was settled when Sonny asked the cook to take them to town on her way home. The boys would return by bus in the late afternoon.

When Sonny saw the two boys laughing away in the joyful expectation of a fun day, he thought that was one of the reasons he loved his work.

Mrs. Mendez left them at the theater door, giving them some money to buy popcorn.

There was a crowd in front of the place and a long  line for tickets going around the corner. Dean walked fast to get to the end of it, worried he was going to lose the chance to watch his favorite films with his best friend.

Fortunately the line moved fast and after half an hour the two of them were sitting in the darkened room. Their eyes were focused on rolling words over a starry background: _"Long time ago, in a galaxy far away... "._

__

Dean had never had the opportunity to watch the trilogy in a theater, having seen the movies only on television in hotel rooms along the roads of the United States. He felt like he was part of the story. It was almost a physical sensation. 

Past the initial impact he let himself sink into this seat and mentally started repeating the dialogues, which he knew by heart. When he remembered that he wasn't alone, he turned to look at his friend. Castiel was sitting upright and his eyes were fixed on the screen. His expression was  one of severe concentration.

Dean smiled, happy to be able to share that moment with Cas. It was a chance of escaping from reality. They could forget their problems for a while.

As if sensing the gaze on the side of his face, Castiel turned to Dean. In the darkness of the theater he also smiled, thankful for having a friend like Dean.

Walking toward the bus stop, Dean appreciated how excited Castiel was. He had completely immersed himself the story of remote worlds where good and evil were absolute and people were compelled to join one of the factions and defend it fiercely.

As he also got lost in the fantasy, he imagined Castiel, Sam, and himself aboard the Millennium Falcon, fleeing from the Imperial ships while carrying the secret plans of the Death Star. Each of them was ready to defend the others like real comrades in arms. Of course his mind had cast Sam as Chewbacca, Cas as Han Solo, and himself as Luke Skywalker. He had to be the hero of his own fantasy.

He also tried to cast Robin in as Princess Leia but it didn’t seem right. Even if she had kissed Luke, she ended up in Han' arms and... No, it didn’t seem right. He eliminated her, then, totally rewriting the script in his mind. His story had no girls in it and in the end the three of them rode toward the sunset, victorious and ready for new adventures.

Castiel finally took a deep breath when they arrived home. It was the first moment he was quiet since they left the movie theater.

"Thank you, Dean," he said. His expression was one of deep gratitude to the friend who had shared such a special moment with him.

An awkward smile was Dean’s only answer.

Most boys were in the living room, watching TV as they entered. Dean was hungry and hurried to the kitchen. Castiel stopped to talk to Garth for a moment.

Gordon's voice rose above the explosions of the movie they were watching:

"Hey, Cas! How was your date with Winchester? Did you let him get to the third base?” Gordon and his friends laughed.

Castiel felt his face warm with the innuendo, but he was not going to react to that. It was better to ignore the bully. Garth seemed to shrink in his chair. Any kind of confrontation made him want to run and hide.

"Oooh! Look at him... It  must have been a homerun! " Gordon finished, inciting a new burst of debauched laughter.

Castiel lowered his head and clenched his fists. If he could he’d punch the other boy in the face. Garth's hand then gripped Cas’ trembling arm. His eyes were huge and he begged wordlessly for Castiel to get out of there.

Trying to stay calm, he stood and motioned for Garth to follow him. They went upstairs to their room.

As soon as the kitchen door opened and Dean returned to the living room, everyone heard Gordon's disgusting voice again:

"Winchester, your boyfriend just left ... He didn’t want to tell us… was it good for you too?" He grinned, pleased that he could finally get the reaction he was waiting for.

Dean threw himself with unrestrained hatred toward the boy, ready to make him swallow his words. But he was grabbed by Gordon's cronies and struggled as the boy who had started it all slowly stood up:

"Castiel, huh? And I thought you were going to take Robin to the dance... You fooled me for a moment, Winchester... " and clenching his fist, punched Dean’s stomach.

Dean groaned in pain. The boys who were holding him let him fall on the rug.

Someone had the good sense to call Sonny, who entered just as Gordon and his friends were about to leave the room.

They always acted tough but the owner of the house knew how to control them. Every boy knew his story and though he never appealed to violence and was rarely angered, they feared him.

Sonny told them to go and wait for him in his office. Then he knelt beside Dean, who was catching his breath. A tear ran down his face.

"Are you OK, Dean?"

Dean shook his head, trying to hide his face.

"David told me that Gordon was teasing you and Castiel. I don’t understand why you didn’t ignore him... "

Dean didn’t want to think about it. He tried to pretend his reaction was a way to defend his friend, but the memory of the kiss made him feel guilty. Gordon's words were too close to the truth.

“Go to bed. I'm going to talk to Gordon. But promise me you will not fall for his tricks again, Dean. You're smarter than that."

He got up and left the room quietly. He went upstairs and directly to bed, refusing to talk to anyone.

Dean should have already learned by now. When things seemed to be alright, it was time to prepare for the worst. When he was finally sorting out his feelings, Gordon had to come and ruin it. He had lowered his guard and everything went crumbling down.

He didn’t know if it would be possible for he and Cas to get back to what they were.

Castiel probably knew what he did the night before and would hate Dean. He would feel insulted by the prejudiced way Dean had acted.

He waited for his room-mate at the school bus, feeling apprehensive. But Castiel sat down beside him as if nothing had happened. He greeted him naturally and began to talk about school matters.

Dean also tried to act normal. He had to hide how conflicted he still was.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean tried to keep his mind focused on the dance during the week. It was what he had to do. He had to concentrate on Robin and all the fun they were going to have. Castiel noticed that Dean was trying to keep their conversations on neutral matters, so he avoided asking personal questions.

Gordon, on the other hand, looked at them both with great resentment; as if they were to blame for the punishment he received from Sonny. He had to come home from school and had doubled work on the farm, along with the boys who always followed him.

On Friday Dean's anxiety peaked. He wanted some time alone with Robin, to talk for a while before their date. If he could kiss her again it would be even better.

Mother and daughter were waiting in the living room when they arrived from school. Castiel greeted them and sat down next to Mrs. Smith, who had begun to teach him some song. Dean, in turn, invited the girl to sit with him on the porch.

She accompanied him with a smile and sat on the swing that was there. Dean was nervous and tried to calm by humming a Metallica song.

Robin put her hand gently over his and that was the cue for Dean to intertwine their fingers. He smiled softly and asked:

"Are you ready for tomorrow night?"

"I can’t wait ... I heard you're going to be honored."

"The coach told me that there going to be a celebration for the school athletes. I don’t like the idea... He asked me to say a few words on behalf of the wrestling team. I think I'm going to be sick... "

"The hardest part it’s already done... Speaking in public can’t be that bad."

"You have no idea ..."He tried to change the subject. He didn’t want to ruin the mood talking about his insecurities "But I know you’ll be there. When I look at you, I know I'll feel better."

The girl lowered her eyes. Dean touched her chin, lifting her face so he could kiss her, as he had longed for. He had to take the initiative once and for all.

He forgot for a moment that they were in a place where everyone could see them, so he slid closer and deepened the kiss, only to be reminded of the presence of others by a high-pitched whistle. Benny and Victor were coming from the stable and couldn’t resist teasing them.

He stood, pulling her by the hand. They needed to go somewhere they could talk without interference. He thought of taking her to the river, but that didn't seem right. Castiel and he had spent many private moments there and... Castiel. _Why was he thinking about him now?_

He finally decided that they would go to that same place. If it were necessary to replace the memories of Castiel with those of the young woman, so be it. He needed some peace of mind.

Castiel, looking out the window, saw his friend walking hand in hand with Robin toward the river. Turning his eyes to the strings of the guitar, he tried to focus on Mrs. Smith instructions.

Saturday, for Dean, went both too slow and too fast. He needed to do his chores at the farm and get ready for the dance. He went over and over again the little thank-you speech he would make, trying to memorize it. Castiel had helped him write it, but he seemed to have his own activities that day, having disappeared shortly after breakfast.

Mrs. Mendez helped him choose the clothes for the dance and ironed a gray, short-sleeved shirt for him so that it would be impeccable, since he would represent, in addition to the wrestling team, the Sonny’ Home for Boys.

At dusk after showering he knotted the tie in front of the mirror in his room, his hair still wet. The anxiety was huge, as he had never experienced any of those things: going to a school dance, winning a sports competition, public speaking, dating. Everything was new and a little scary. There was something even more frightening, that he could also experience in that house where he had been left by his father as punishment, but he did not want to think about it. He tried to keep the memory and the conflicting feelings he carried within himself deep in his mind so they would not bother him again. Not that night.

He smiled at his own image. He would enjoy those moments of happiness that the whole situation would allow him. He would not think of anything that made him sad. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Robin. They had spoken of their interests and their hopes. He felt that he knew the girl a little better and that was good. He was more comfortable with her now.

The owner of the house, who was to take him to the Smiths' house to fetch Robin, entered the room and, seeing the boy ready to go, said:

"Look at you. You cleaned up good! "

"Thank you. You know, uh... I've never actually been to one of these school dances before"

"Yeah. Look, about that, Dean, your old man's outside... and, man, he's really something. I tried to tell him what a big night it was for you, Dean, and ask him if he could come back later, but he just said to tell you he had a job, said you'd know what that means... "

Dean shook his head, trying to hide the disappointment. He thought of all the expectations he'd had for that night, swallowing the tears. Worried, Sonny did not take his eyes off him:

"You know, after I got out of jail, this place gave me a second chance, and it's done the same for you, too...."

Dean nodded in silence. The man who had been a model for him for the past few months continued to speak softly,

"So if you want, I'll stick my neck out for you, and I'll fight for you to stay."

Sonny's demonstration of loyalty left Dean speechless. He just tried to hold back the tears.

The Impala's horn honked in the stillness of the night. The boy walked to the window and could see his brother playing with a new toy in the back. Laughing, he remembered how much he had missed Sam and still choking on the sadness of the moment mixed with the joy of meeting him again, he turned to Sonny, his hand outstretched.

A tear gleamed at the edge of one eyelid as the hands tightened.

"Sonny... Thank you – for everything. But I have to go."

The rustic man stepped forward and enveloped in a tight embrace the boy who had been like another son in his large family.

He walked slowly down the stairs, thinking of everything he had lived there. He noticed the certificate of the competition from the previous week framed near the foot of the staircase. He let his eyes wander one last time through the simple living room, the memories too vivid.

Castiel's face suddenly appeared in his mind and he turned to Sonny:

"Where's Cas? I need to say goodbye!"

He ran into the kitchen, but he was not there, doing his homework in the usual place. Dean went out the backyard door and swept the yard with his gaze, searching for his friend. Desperate, he ran to the river, thinking he might find him there, sitting on the bench where they had shared so many confidences.

There was no sign of him anywhere.

The horn made itself heard again, this time even more impatient. Dean was delaying their departure.

Finally drying a tear with the back of his hand, he turned and walked toward the car that would take him away.

Forever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains dialogue from the episode "Bad Boys".


	13. Chapter 13

Dean hung up his cell phone and slipped it into his back pocket. He looked out of the window of the simple motel room where he'd been staying for the past two days.

Alone, it was not easy to handle everything. But he had finished a nest of vampires and had left with only scratches. His duffel bag was ready, anyway. He only had to take the road.

Initially his plans were different. Bobby, who had kept him informed in those days, had given him a probable Rugaru about a day's drive away. But another hunter was going to take care of that.

Loyalty was importan for Dean and when a friend called him to deal with a case there was no room for hesitation. The man who made the call was one of the few friends he had in the world. He had said "yes" and now it was up to him to determine the shortest way there.

He put the bag into the back seat, sat behind the wheel and took the old map out of the glove compartment. He traced with his finger the best way to get to his destination. Still, it would be a two-day trip if he stopped to sleep. He thought about not stopping, but he had to be in good shape when he got there.  And also his friend, though worried, had not spoken of an emergency.

But he knew that when it came to that place, the sooner he got there, it would be better for everyone.

Dean drove all day and part of the night before stopping for a nap in the backseat.

He stretched and checked the distance to cover before reaching the destination. He was close enough that he could stop for a decent breakfast.

His mind carried him to the small, cozy diner where he had eaten a few times. The memory of good food came with a bitter-sweet taste. A girl's face, her long hair falling over her shoulders, a bright smile...

She should not be there any longer. Her ambitious dreams must have led her away from the little town where the parents had established their family business.

Those memories were not something he constantly rummaged through. It was an old thing, almost forgotten under the weight of so many later facts. But the attraction of the memories of that time was undeniable. A period that should have been a punishment and that was, in fact, in many ways as a vacation from the real world. So much he had learned there with those people... He could point out how much he had grown in contact with those he should never have known.

All because he had lost the money for Sammy's food and stole some bread and peanut butter. His father had been adamant and there was no way to placate the fury he had seen in his eyes.

Thinking back, he wondered how many times when he was younger he had wished he had never left that house. Even then, in the saddest moments, he knew that his destiny was not that. His father had already written the script for him and he had only to follow his orders.

By the time John Winchester had died, Dean had thought of stopping and devoting himself to another activity, settling down somewhere. But how if he had never learned anything more than hunting monsters? His experience was limited and the world was an inhospitable place. There was only one home for him, the car he had inherited, full of stories. Loneliness was only a natural consequence. He was moving on, pursuing an end that, I knew, was waiting for him, sooner or later.

A noise and the sudden jerk of the steering wheel to the right woke him from his reverie and he stopped at the side of the road. A flat tire, no doubt.

That would delay him, he thought as he took the jack into the trunk. He would probably arrive at lunchtime.

 

The delay was greater than expected. He needed someone who could fix the tire.

He arrived to the city much later than he had planned, his stomach rumbling,  since he didn’t have any breakfast. It was already after two P.M.

Hurleyville had changed very little in almost twenty years . Dean was not surprised. It was a quiet community, accommodated in its tranquil way of living.

His driving style immediately adjusted to the environment and he slowed down. He passed the school where he had studied for just over two months in 1995. The students were leaving, classes closed for the day.

He searched for a parking spot after seeing that the ‘Cus's Place’ sign was still in the same place.

The only reason he was going there it was the food. Good food. He was sure there would be no sign of Robin.

He found an empty table in a corner and sat down waiting until a middle-aged waitress came to bring him the menu. After checking that his favorite dishes were still in it, he ordered and leaned back on the vinyl-padded bench. He needed to relax, he was exhausted by the long journey.

The door bells caught his attention. A group of students came in talking loudly and laughing and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

Shortly after, the door opened again and a couple came in. Teachers, no doubt. The man  carried a box and a suitcase and yet he held the door for the woman, also carrying a suitcase and a huge pile of books.

Talking and laughing, they put everything on one of the tables on the other side of the room. The woman walked toward the counter as the man sank down on the bench, sighing.

When the woman turned, Dean jumped. That was Robin! The smile was unmistakable, though obviously she was no longer the teenager he had met. She had not left to pursue her dream of being a photographer and getting to know the world.

His eyes followed her, admiring the beautiful woman she had become. As she sat in front of her colleague, Dean finally looked at the face of the man who flipped through a book. Only a moment was enough to recognize that face.

Instead of a thin boy, he was a man. He was still lean but he did not look weak. His constitution was compatible with that of a person who kept himself in shape through some kind of physical activity. His attitude was confident.

His dark hair was messy by the repeated act of running his fingers through it. He looked tired. His tanned face, though visibly shaven, had a dark shadow over his jaw, contrasting with his teacher's suit and tie.

Dean slid down the bench. He didn’t want to be seen by the man he'd been watching for the last few minutes. He had no idea he was going to meet either of the two people with whom he had had the deepest ties in the past. They were also the people he couldn’t say goodbye to when he left abruptly.

They were part of another life, he thought. His stay there had been a welcome break in the often hopeless daily life he lived then. But if he looked at his existence as a whole, they were just two tiny dots in a long line. _No_ , he thought. They were not mere dots, they were two _bright spots_ , no doubt.

A desire arose within him, soon overcome by fear. He wanted to talk to them, to know what had made them stay, what had changed their plans, if they had met someone...

Looking again at them he realized there was a clear intimacy between those two. They talked comfortably and there was affection there, Dean could see. This fact shouldn’t make him sad but he felt it acutely.

He tried to look away, to divert his mind from that place to the work he had come to do in town, but the attraction was too strong. Although unwillingly, he continued to look closely at each of the couple's movements, smiles, looks...

In the middle of the conversation, Robin's cell phone rang and she answered promptly. Castiel looked down at the notebooks he'd been flipping through the time he'd been there. When the young woman got up, drinking the last sip of her coffee, the man hugged her affectionately. Robin said something and Castiel smiled, receiving a kiss on the cheek, before she took her briefcase and some of the books on the table and hurried out.

Castiel remained at the table, savoring the meal as his attention returned to the printed material he was reading.

Dean had finished eating and put the money on the table but he could not leave the diner.

He looked out of the window, checking to see if his car was still in the place he left it. When he turned back to Castiel, he saw that he stood and was stacking all the books inside the box he had brought in, getting ready to leave. He walked to the door but he struggled to open it with his hands full.

Dean, without thinking, finally got up and approached with a shy attitude, opened and held the door so that Castiel could pass. He gave Dean a brief glance. He didn’t recognize him. Castiel had a neutral expression and only nodded politely as he thanked him for the kindness.

Still holding the doorknob, he watched as the haughty man walked across the parking lot toward the street.

Dean closed the door behind him and after taking a deep breath walked to the Impala parked a few feet away.

His destination was Sonny's house. He would solve whatever problem his old friend and mentor had and he would leave.

There was nothing left there for Dean


	14. Chapter 14

Dean knocked on the door and a woman came to open it. _Where was Mrs. Mendez friendly face?_

"Hi." Dean started.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm Dean.  I’m an old buddy of Sonny's."

"Prison buddy?" The woman asked with a suspicious look.

"No." He tried to smile. "Do you mind telling him I'm here?"

"I'll go get him, but I just mopped this floor so take off those stompers."

Kicking off his boots, he left them on the porch before entering. His eyes darted across the room, a wave of memories flooding his mind.

"D-Dawg!" There was the man he had met so many years ago. His hair and mustache, once dark brown were now splashed with gray. But the smile was the same.

"Sonny! Good to see you. "Dean replied, opening his arms for a hug.

"Hey, you too, brother."

"So… The farm looks… nice."

"Ah, please, man. It’s barely standing. Only have a handful of kids working around here now."

"Why?" Dean asked, frowning.

"Because these days the system would rather incarcerate a boy than redeem him."

Dean noticed that the woman who had opened the door was cleaning a table with a clear intention of hearing their conversation. He gave Sonny a pointed look and he asked her to check if the boys finished their morning chores.

"So, what’s happened?"

"Well, you remember Jack, don’t you?

"Yes, that one tough old leatherneck."

"Uh-huh. Well... somehow that ancient, rusty, broken down tractor just roared to life and ran over him the other night."

Dean looked thoughtful. It could be some kind of accident.

"I know what you're thinking, Dean… It was no accident.” He paused for a second. “I always had a hard time believing this mumbo jumbo you’re into but I need you to know...The whole story is strange. Too strange… There have been flickering lights, strange sounds, like scratches coming from inside the walls, doors and windows slamming for no reason."

"Well, I can’t waste time then. I'll investigate. I'll start with the barn."

Closing the door behind him, he looked at the tractor. It was like an old, shriveled animal, consumed by rust and disuse. But the front part, made up of pointed metal parts, was covered in blood. He turned on the EMF meter and it flashed, demonstrating that there was some kind of paranormal activity there.

 He turned it off and listened. Someone or something was still there... He walked slowly to the adjoining room and opened the door cautiously. A swaying lamp showed him that there had been someone in there.

"Hello? Anybody here?"

Turning around he found himself face to face with a boy.

"Hey kid, what are you doing here by yourself?" He asked, keeping his voice low so as not to scare him.

"I'm fighting monsters." It was the response he received.

"What kind of monsters?"

"All sorts... with Bruce, the monster smasher." The boy had in his hands an action figure, a strong man in black clothes and red cloak, a mace in one hand.

“Mm… Is that a cape? Little impractical for smashing monsters, huh? You know, he could choke... "

The boy pressed a button on the back of the figure and it said, in a menacing voice:

"I clobber evil!"

Dean laughed. "I bet you do.”

He then offered his hand, saying:

“I'm Dean."

"Timmy"  the boy said, shaking the Dean’s hand weakly.

Dean frowned and crouched down to the boy's height. He must be around ten or eleven.

"Let's try it again. You’re going to be a man, you have to learn how to shake like one, OK? So, give me your best Kung Fu grip. "

The boy shook Dean’s hand more confidently the second time.

"Good," he said with a smile. "Now look into my eyes and let me know you mean business. Shake as hard as you can. "

Timmy made an effort to do what the man asked. He looked like a good person.

"That's it. You shake like that you’ll be alright."

A shy smile showed on the boy's face.

It was the opening that Dean needed to talk about the old man who had died there.

He learned that Timmy and two other boys were there, playing hide and seek at night.  The old man had been attacked by the tractor. He had come to call them to go to bed, as harshly as he always did. Dean remembered that he was a rough man and for what Timmy had told him, he kept yelling at the boys as the years went by.

After the conversation, Dean accompanied him to the house, so he could finish his chores.

He went upstairs to take a look at the bedrooms, which he inspected one by one. He noticed that the occupation was smaller than usual, as Sonny had told him. Dean e left the one he had occupied during his stay for last.

He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes suddenly wider, as if some of the boys in Gordon's gang might be hiding there, waiting to ambush him. He laughed, trying to figure out why he thought of that. Dean approached the bed he had once occupied, still marked on one foot by the symbol he had carved with a nail. A devil’s trap.

He sat on the mattress and looked at the bed that once was Castiel’s. He remembered the first night when his old friend had fell asleep on the bare mattress.  He closed his eyes, remembering all that had taken place within those four walls, the memories more vivid than before.

An unexpected sound took him out of his reverie. Immediately alert, he walked silently to the door at the back of the bedroom, which opened to a small room.

Opening the door, he found the woman he'd met before, whom Sonny had called Ruth, sitting on the bed with a rosary in her hands.

At first frightened by the intrusion she said she knew why he was there. He had come because of the ghost.

"What ghost?" He asked, rather confused.

She told him the story of the farm and how the former owner had thought Jack had an affair with his wife. That ended badly, husband killing wife and ending up in jail. He had died the year before. Ruth was convinced that the husband’s ghost had finally had his revenge against Jack.

Dean also learned that the murderer was buried in town. He already knew what he had to do. With luck, the ghost would have gone away in the morning and he could also do the same. He didn’t want to run into Robin or Castiel, intending to avoid other embarrassing moments.

"Sonny?" Dean called through a crack in the office door.

"I'm here, come in." The answer came from inside.

Dean came in and stopped at once. Sonny had a visitor. Castiel was sitting there with his back to the door.

Instinctively he cleared his throat and took a step back, stammering an excuse:

"I... I'm going... I'll take care of an issue in town... I'll be back..."

"Dean, wait... Do you remember Castiel?"

Castiel turned slowly, his face an impassive mask as he reached for his old friend.

"Castiel... _Cas_... how could I... forget? How are you?"

"I’m well, Dean, thank you. I realize now that I haven’t recognized you at the diner earlier. I’m sorry."

"No problem, we don’t look like boys anymore." No, Castiel looked like a man, Dean thought. _A well respected man_.

Sonny spoke again:

"Castiel is Timmy's teacher and he came to see how he is doing. With all the excitement in the house yesterday he was not able to go to class today."

Dean could only shake his head, speechless. The man Castiel had became, with his serious attitude, intimidated him. Or it was the fact that he had become a teacher intimidated him… Dean wasn’t sure.

"Well, let me go talk to Timmy, I don’t want to be in your way. Dean, it was a pleasure seeing you again." The statement was accompanied by a formal smile which didn’t reach his blue eyes. Castiel nodded and left, leaving the men alone.

Dean followed him with his eyes and finally sat down.

"Do you have any idea what that might be, Dean? Anything?”

"Well, Ruth told me an interesting story. I'll do what I can and let’s hope things get back to normal. "

"Are you staying here tonight?"

"No, I have to go to town for the night so I'm staying at a motel."

"I hope we can talk again, Dean. I’d like to learn more about your life now that you're here. I like to know how my boys are doing" he said, smiling affectionately.

Dean felt a pang of sadness. He didn’t have much to tell. His life was dedicated only to hunting, and even if it wasn’t an unworthy occupation, it didn't denote great intelligence on his part.  He practically lived in shadows. Family… He didn’t have one. How was he going to tell the man who had shown so much faith in him in the past that his existence was empty and lonely?

"Ok, Sonny, I’m going to come back and we'll talk. Tomorrow. Well, time to go" he replied, standing up and leaving the room.

As he passed the door to the living room, he saw Timmy sitting on the couch, talking in a low voice to Castiel. The teacher’s tone was calm and assertive and the boy obviously felt comfortable in his presence. Castiel said something that resulted in a broad smile. He knew how to deal with children, Dean realized.

He was opening the front door when Timmy saw him and called:

"Dean… I thought you were going to stay here tonight?" He asked anxiously.

"No, kid, I need to go to town... But I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Take good care of Bruce, huh?"

Timmy picked up the action figure from the couch, pressing the button again for it to say his usual phrase.

Castiel had turned around and followed the conversation with disguised curiosity. When his eyes finally met Dean's, something of his old self showed up. A well-known expression, from a distant time when there were jokes and confidences between them. But it was gone in a second.

He was not Dean’s best friend anymore. He was Timmy’s teacher.

Dean nodded to the boy and left, his head bowed and thoughts in confusion as they hadn’t been for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains dialogue from the episode "Bad Boys". Some of it has been adapted.


	15. Chapter 15

Sneaking out of the small cemetery as he entered, Dean patted the legs of his trousers to remove some of the dirt that had clung to them.

It hasn’t been easy finding the tomb. Digging, exposing the body, salting it and burning it had taken more than three hours. For the umpteenth time he thought of getting a partner to help him. This was not an occupation for a single person, he thought, remembering the brother who had abandoned that life.

But now he saw that Sam had made the right decision. He had a profession; he must be getting on well. He also probably dated someone and thought about building a future for himself.

Dean just made assumptions, because they hadn’t talked in years. Dean had been hurt and resentful with his brother. Maybe it was time to try to make amends.

Or maybe not. Sam didn’t need him. No one needed him, he thought. Except for the people he saved from day to day. And they soon forgot about him.

Putting the tools in the trunk, he checked the time on his cell phone. Almost midnight. He wouldn’t find any restaurant open for dinner in the small town. He would then rest in the simple motel room and eat whatever he would find in the convenience store at the gas station.

 

Dean was awakened by the strident ringing of his phone.

"Dean?" Sonny's said in a hoarse voice .

"Hi, Sonny. Any problem?" He mumbled, a little confused.

"It happened again. Ruth is dead."

Wide awake now, Dean sat up in bed.

"How?"

"Come... you have to see for yourself."

"Ok, I'll be right there."

He got up, got dressed, and left as fast as he could.

When he parked behind the police car, he saw Timmy looking out of the upstairs window. That confusion had kept him from going to school again.

Entering through the open door, Dean could hear some of Sonny's conversation with the cop. He reported that Ruth was taking her morning bath. She had been found in the tub, asphyxiated by the plastic curtain.

To Dean, Sonny said he had tried to get into the bathroom when he heard her scream, but he couldn’t open the door. Dean remembered that there were no keys in that house. He asked Sonny to confirm the hour of her death and was sure that it had happened after he had taken care of the presumed ghost.

The logical explanation was that Howard Wasserlauf, the murderer of his wife, was not responsible for the deaths. Or maybe his spirit was attached to some object in the house.

The case was not as simple as it had seemed at first.

He asked Sonny if something more extraordinary had happened and he reported the disappearance of the rosary that Ruth always had with her. Dean mentally noted this fact to include in his research.

He left his car in the motel parking lot and returned to the small town library in order to research more about the Wasserlauf family affair.

Distracted by his own thoughts, he didn’t notice a person who walked in the opposite direction.

"Hey! Look at ... "the woman started to yell but then she looked up and recognized the man who had almost made her knock the plastic-wrapped clothes she had in her arms. "Dean?"

"What?" Dean turned and saw the expression on the woman's face turn from annoyance to surprise. "Yes?... Robin? "

"You haven’t forgotten me, huh? It’s been a long time! What are you doing in town? "

Embarrassed by the unexpected encounter, he tried to keep calm:

"I came to help Sonny... I'm going to stay just for a few days ..."

"Oh, we need to talk ..." She glanced at her watch, pulling the sleeve from her coat under the pile of clothes. "Luckily, I have time for coffee. Please, come."

Dean wanted to get away, but Robin's smile was so authentic that he couldn’t avoid her invitation.

They sat down at her family diner, the young woman piling up what she had in her hands on a chair.

When they ordered, she began the interrogatory:

"So... Dean, what have you been up to these past few years?"

Where would he begin? She was not aware of what he did, like Cas. Maybe he had told her, since they seemed to be together.

"Here and there ... My job takes me many places."

"Too bad it took so long to get back here."

"Yes, it's a shame." He said it for Robin’s sake for he wished he had never come back, if that meant meeting Castiel as a stranger.

"You need to meet Castiel! You were friends, weren’t you? He ended up staying here after his family case was resolved. " Ignoring the mention of Castiel, he tried to focus the conversation on her.

“And what about you, Robin? If I remember correctly, you had other plans ... "

"Ah, teenage plans. Dreams. I went to college with Cas and we ended up becoming teachers ... We came back here and stayed. It's a good place to live. "

Despite the curiosity that made him want to confirm if they were married or were together in some way, he refrained from asking. Only if she told him he would know. Then he just shook his head, smiling lightly.

"And are you... married, Dean?" Apparently she had no problem expressing her curiosity.

"Hm, no... I'm not the marrying kind, I guess..." And here was the cue he needed: "And ... you?"

"Not yet. I'm engaged, "he replied, showing her hand where a diamond ring sparkled beneath the restaurant's fluorescent lights.

 _Oh_ , he thought, _they are not married yet_. But there was a compromise between them.

"Congratulations ..." he stammered, his throat closing for a moment.

"Are you going to stay for a few days? I could talk to Cas and arrange a meeting... "

"Actually... I met Castiel yesterday. He didn’t recognize me. "Dean interrupted her.

"Castiel always has a lot on his mind... I'm sure he didn’t forget you. "

Looking at the clock on the wall, the woman seemed to remember something:

"Wow, I have to go... Allan is coming and I have so much to do... I'm sorry. You're staying at Sonny's or... "

"At the 'Heartbreak Motel’."

"I'll leave a message when I talk to Castiel. Maybe you might even meet my fiancé if he’s in town."

Dean blinked at this new information: Robin's fiancé wasn't in town... Dean didn’t know him… Castiel wasn’t her fiancé. Why did he feel relieved?

There was nothing new in the documents Dean found in the local library. There was nothing special for his spirit to be bound except for the farm itself. If it were, it would be difficult to resolve by the usual means of eliminating the object by burning it.

Dean needed to research more. He guessed maybe that was not the real reason for the deaths. He would return to the farm and check everything again.

Sonny was acting differently, the situation starting to weigh on him. The boys were scared, though they did not have access to all the facts. But everyone saw the flickering lights and slamming doors and windows. 

As he retraced his steps across the farm, EMF's reader in hand, Dean came upon a well-known situation: Timmy was trapped in a corner of the garden, two older boys taunting him. This was all too familiar and he could not let such behavior go on without interfering.

He pulled the boy who physically cornered Timmy away from him, placing himself as a barrier between the boys.

Dean took the opportunity to ask the bullies what they knew about Ruth's death. They told him that they had been in town at that time, running errands for Sonny. They also told him that Ruth was a religious fanatic and that her behavior was similar to that of a prison guard. They took advantage of the opportunity to try insulting Timmy one more time, when Dean had asked them if they had noticed something odd.

The hunter warned them to stop bothering Timmy and dismissed them, turning his attention to the still-shaken boy on the verge of tears. He got down to Timmy’s eye level and picked up the action figure he always carried. Dean offered him his hand to help him climb a step. He told him, in a soft voice, that boys like those were cowards and that if he reacted just once it would be enough to never be disturbed again.

Timmy nodded, but seemed to doubt that.

When Dean got up, ready to accompany Timmy inside, he saw Castiel climbing down from his car, that was parked next to the Impala.

He quickly came toward them as if sensing the boy's altered emotional state.

"Timmy?" He asked, still a short distance away. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Novak. Dean protected me from the boys who were taunting me."

At last Castiel's gaze fixed on Dean's face and embarrassed that he had forgotten his good manners, he said hastily:

"Good morning, Dean... I'm sorry I haven't greeted you earlier. Timmy has been bullied here and at school so... "

"No problem, Cas ... Castiel. I think those idiots won’t bother him anymore." Looking at Timmy, he said," Well, now that you're in good hands, I'll continue what I was doing. Are you and Bruce all right? "He gently asked the boy .

Timmy shook his head.

With a stern look in his old friend's direction, he turned away. Castiel's attitude had been almost like a physical blow. It was as if he doubted his actions toward Timmy. Castiel should know him better, to think that he would treat any child in a less than correct way.

He wished he could leave and never again come across Castiel’s judgmental eyes.

He had to unravel that mystery soon. Then he could leave.

Sonny, who had heard Timmy's account of the bullying at Castiel's insistence, gave the boys an assigment as a reprimand: they had to mow the lawn around the house.

Reluctantly, they dedicated themselves to the job, but a few minutes later the old machine had begun to make a strange noise. Turning it off, they turned it to expose the blades and there, wrapped in them there was a known object. Ruth's missing rosary.

The shortest boy began to try to pull it off the blades. Unexpectedly the machine came to life. Blood splattered in all directions as the boy screamed in pain.

 

Dean ran his hand through his hair. Victims were piling up.

The rosary was something to be taken into account since it fit a larger picture. A picture he wasn't able to see yet.

Sonny and Castiel entered the office. The injured boy had got some stitches, but he had not suffered any injuries so severe as to incapacitate him. But the boys were terrified.

Dean sat upright and stared at the owner of the house. He avoided ostensibly looking at Castiel.

"Sonny, did the boy say anything else that might matter?"

"Well, he said the lawn mower was off and the ignition moved by itself ..."

"Sorry, but... I don’t understand what Dean... with all due respect... is doing here, Sonny. I thought he just came to visit... " he stopped, understanding finally. "Do you think all this... These deaths... have a supernatural motive? You can’t possibly believe that."

Dean glared at him. How dare he doubt him like this? And still disrespect Sonny that way.

The older man tried to be conciliatory:

"Cas, what happened here... it's hard to find a natural explanation. I needed to call Dean. He knows how to... "

Dean face was flushed. Castiel's attitude offended him deeply.

"Sorry, Sonny, but I have things to do. I'm sorry you don’t believe in my work, _Mr. Novak_.”

He stormed out trying not to think about the boy who has been his best friend.

When he returned to the house later, he made a point of checking that Castiel's car was no longer parked next to his.

He sat down for dinner beside Sonny, still hurt by Castiel's words.

"Did you find anything, Dean?"

"There's something escaping me here, Sonny. Usually I'm faster, but this time I’m having trouble determining the cause of the problem ... "

"Maybe you need some time to think... no distractions."

"Maybe," he replied, frowning.

"Dean..." Sonny said, his eyes searching for those of the hunter. "I don’t think Castiel meant to be rude... he just..."

"Is he always like that? So…superior? Is my memory flawed, or did he become this know-it-all guy after I left? "

"I'm surprised by his attitude, Dean, as much as you. He's usually a kind man... He's a highly esteemed person, an excellent teacher... Did you know that when he came into possession of the inheritance of his foster family, he helped several of the boys from the house to go to college? Garth became a dentist and Victor is an FBI agent. Who knows where they could be today without the help of your old friend."

Dean heard that information, and despite his resentment, he knew that Castiel had always been a good person. He didn’t understand why Castiel had so much contempt for him. Dean had been his friend.

Finishing the meal, he stood and said good-night to Sonny. But before he left, he went upstairs to the bedrooms and looked for Timmy.

Dean found him asleep in a curled position, squeezing his plastic friend close to his heart.

 

Dean couldn't sleep, lying on the motel's uncomfortable bed, the musty smell rising from the stained carpet.

He wanted to convince himself that the case was keeping him awake, but he knew there was another reason for that.

Castiel’s attitude hurt him. He’s always known that he wouldn’t be received with open arms upon returning here. His unexpected departure and his questionable behavior before that probably hurt Castiel. But he thought he deserved at least a chance to start again somehow.

But Castiel looked at Dean as if he didn’t deserve anything from him.

Dean wished he could get over it, but he couldn’t forget. Nor forgive.

His heart revolted when confronted with Castiel’s contempt.  Castiel had not only been the friend he had made for himself apart from the hunting world...He had been _the best friend_ he had ever had.

They had built a relationship of trust and respect and it had deteriorated in such a way that was apparently beyond any possibility of reconstruction.

His mind wouldn’t calm down. He tried to pinpoint the moment when everything had started to go wrong.  Was it Robin? Was the girl the reason for their gradual separation?

Debating amid the hazy memories he had not consciously visited for years, he struggled to admit the uncomfortable truth: _everything had changed on the night of the storm_.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get away from that long-suffocated memory. _The kiss_.

Driven by the rush of reminiscences, he could not help but think that his first kiss had been far more important to him than he was ever able to admit. He never could accept that fact.

Until now.

Overwhelmed by the sensations he revisited, he felt Cas' taste in his mouth again... His strong arms around him. Those arms that had seemed capable of holding together all the fragments of his broken life.

Dean had fought with all his might to avoid thinking about the kiss as good, genuine... pleasurable. In light of the homophobia learned from his father, the fragile spark should not be able to survive. He had fought with every possible effort to escape the feelings that that kiss stirred in his heart.

He didn’t want to remember how many times he had touched himself thinking of that night.

He didn’t want to remember how he had tried to forget.

He didn’t want to remember how many times after that he'd ignored some possible attraction to another man. Even with his father gone, the deep-rooted prejudice and fear made him think about it as wrong.

He fought these feelings by having sex with countless women. A long chain of forgettable encounters trying to erase the only one that had actually been... meaningful. Unforgettable.

Turning on the bed, he buried his face in the pillow, wanting to stifle the denied desires. Trying to forget how he felt about Castiel.

In the silence of the night all those memories and feelings seemed too big, too heavy.

Especially when the image of Castiel - the man he was now - insisted on remaining in the background, like a melody that doesn't leave the mind in spite of all efforts to silence it.

Memory and reality clashed and he felt thorn. He desperately wanted to know the man Sonny described to him.

But _that_ Castiel didn’t seem to exist in Dean's presence.


	16. Chapter 16

Dean woke up agitated, the little sleep he'd had filled with nightmares.

A suspicion had formed in his subconscious regarding to the case, in spite of the confusion about his own life. He would return to the farm and find out if he was right.

When he got there, he questioned Sonny about Timmy. After all, the last victim had been one of the boys that intimidated him, and before him Jack and Ruth, with their authoritarian attitudes. Maybe the boy was possessed by some evil entity?

Sonny handed him the boy's slip where his sad story was reported in a direct and cold manner. He had been found in an abandoned building about a year earlier. His photo had been released online, in search of his family, but no one had showed up. Treated like an orphan, he had been placed in a foster home, but after several escapes Sonny had volunteered to have him in his home as an alternative.

The memory of a detail that had seemed unimportant before, made him head for the barn again. Climbing to its highest level, he looked for the sketch he saw on one of the walls a few days earlier.

There it was. A tragic story was drawn there in childish traces.

Mother and son in a car accident. The car in flames and the mother sacrificing herself to save the boy ... A black, terrifying form was the end of the story.

He could be possessed, not by a demon, but ...

Dean ran toward the house, now that he knew what might be happening. His eyes found Cas's car parked there again.

A frustrated growl broke from his lips as he opened the door.

As he saw the teacher in the living room, the briefcase and a stack of books at his side, he couldn’t help it:

"Man, you are here again? Don’t you have anything else to do? " Immediately he regretted his harsh words.

Castiel blinked, disconcerted by Dean's demeanor and stammering he said:

"I live nearby and Timmy needs help..." Noticing the other man's dismayed look, he got up quickly. "Anything wrong? Dean? "

"Get out of here, Cas, as fast as you can..." he said authoritatively, not realizing that he had unconsciously called him by his old nickname.

"I don’t understand why you want me to ..." he began to retort before Dean grabbed him by the arm and physically shoved him toward the front door.

"Hey!” Castiel yelled pulling his arm from Dean's grip. His face showed only anger.

But neither could say anything else, when behind them they heard a voice say:

"I'm sorry."

When they turned, startled, to Timmy, he added:

"I can’t help it."

A vase struck the wall above Castiel's head. Realizing what was happening, he looked at Dean, as asking for instructions on how to proceed from there.

Dean turned toward the kitchen aiming for the back door, and began to run, followed by Castiel, amid objects smashed against the walls. Running through the room he grabbed one of the fire-place's pokers. It was made of iron and it was an effective weapon in case...

The door slammed shut when they were only a few feet away. Dean knew it wouldn’t open when Castiel pulled the doorknob hard.

Dean opened the cabinets above the sink in a desperate search for salt. He would draw a salt circle on the floor in which he could put his old friend safely. Unfortunately, he couldn't find it, and before he could think of another possibility, Timmy stood at the entrance of the room.

"I can’t stop her."

Dean looked down at the sad boy standing in front of him.

"It's your mother, isn’t it?"

Castiel, who until then had been silent, took a step forward:

"Your mother? But..."

"Timmy, please, we need you to tell us about the fire ..."

"We were coming home one night ... and an accident happened in the forest. The car was burning ... My mother ... pushed me out, but ... it exploded ... with her inside. "

Dean knew there was more.

"And?"

"I ran and found an abandoned building... it was dark and cold and I... I was afraid ... I cried and I called for my mother... and she came."

"But she ... was different, wasn’t she?"

Timmy nodded in agreement, glancing down at the figure in his hands.

"I bet ... she's the one who gave you this cool toy ..." Dean said wary.

"She gave it to me when I turned nine."

Dean moved toward the boy, his hand outstretched, not noticing the apparition of a horrifying woman in the corner of the room. Castiel watched as she flung herself furiously toward the hunter, and he instinctively stood on her path, being hurled against the back wall of the house.

Despite wanting to see what had happened to Cas, there was no room for hesitation. He took the toy from the boy's hands and, turning on the stove he threw the figure in the flames, under Timmy's disbelieving gaze.

As the figure uttered his characteristic phrase for the last time, Dean wrapped his arms around the boy, who seemed suddenly much younger and weak.

As the plates began to leave the cabinets and crash to the floor, Dean realized that it was not to the toy that the ghost was anchored. It was Timmy!

Turning away, trying to find a solution that did not involve ending the life of a boy who had suffered more than he deserved, he took a step toward Cas, who lay motionless on the floor, unconscious. Before he could think, his fingers wrapped around Cas' face while he whispered:

"Cas ..." He opened his eyes a little, revealing the blue irises Dean remembered so well. He wrapped his arms around Cas inert body and pulled it against his own body, lifting him up. He had to keep Castiel away from that threat.

Dragging him toward the front door, he realized that the ghost assumed that everyone was threatening his son and attacked indiscriminately. It was then he was pushed against the door frame. He fell, knocking Castiel down.

The terrifying-looking woman walked toward him, as if caught in an uncontrollable fury, one hand outstretched at the front, in a gesture that emulated the act of strangling someone.

Before he felt the full effects of the choking, he told Timmy, in a desperate tone, under the Castiel’s stunned gaze:

"She came to you ... when you cried ... she can’t leave ... because she thinks you need her..."

"I can’t... she's my mother!"

"She ... is ... going crazy ... She can’t ... go on ...” he said, his voice strangled by the invisible hand that tightened his throat. "Ask... her..." Dean closed his eyes, the effort too hard on his lungs.

"No ..." the startled boy murmured.

As if feeling the suffering of the boy she had loved so much in life, the apparition dropped her arm and turned to him.

Momentarily freed from the infernal grip, Dean said what needed to be said:

"Let her go, kid..." Sensing Timmy's hesitation he continued, "Sometimes we must do what is good for us ... even if it hurts the ones we love..."

The boy swallowed hard, looked at the face that didn’t have much resemblance to the mother he once loved and said:

"Mother, stop ..."

Realizing the lack of conviction in the boy's speech, Dean used the remnant of strength he had to say:

"Kung fu grip, Timmy!"

His face hardened for an instant and he uttered, loud and imperative:

"Stop, Mommy! Stop hurting people! "

The ghost softened her features and opened her arms, as if hoped to welcome the boy inside them.

"Mommy, you have to go ..." At the incredulous look that the dark figure gave him, he continued: "... and never come back. I'll be fine, I promise. "

A light shone inside the apparition, and the dark layer that covered her face broke off, revealing a beautiful young woman in whose eyes love was expressed unequivocally.

"I love you, too," Timmy said, deep affection in his voice.

Dean and Castiel looked at each other as they watched as the young woman disappeared into a blazing smoke, before the desolate boy ran toward the hunter for comfort.


	17. Chapter 17

Sonny entered the house through the kitchen door from the chicken coop and came upon a disturbing scene. The house seemed to have been swept by a hurricane.

Fearing the worst, he set the basket on the table and ran toward the living room, only to find Castiel lying on the couch, holding a bloodstained towel against his temple and Dean comforting Timmy, who was crying softly to him.

He was going to ask what had happened, but Dean's gaze shut him.

He walked toward Castiel, and still playing the part that best suited his personality, lifted the red cloth to check the wound beneath it. He left the room just to get the first aid kit.

After a while, Timmy fell asleep in Dean's arms. He looked fondly at the face of the boy had seen and lived through so much more sadness for his age than he should have, like... Sam and himself.

That, plus the memory of something that he said before, kindled an urge in his chest. He climbed the stairs and put the boy on his bed. He was sorry that he no longer had the toy that had comforted him all this time. He decided that he would remedy it somehow.

He went downstairs and quickly said goodbye to Sonny, saying he had something to do. Something that couldn't wait any longer. He didn't know what to do about Castiel yet. Before he could make any decision, Castiel stood from where he had been lying down and came to him at the door.

"Dean ..." he called, unsure.

"Yes, Cas?" He replied, trying to keep his face as neutral as possible.

"I need to... go home..." he said hesitantly. "I don’t  want to bother you, but... I don’t think I can drive after the blow I got on my head... Would you mind... giving me a lift? I live nearby. "

Dean looked at him intensely but he only found embarrassment on that face. He didn’t even know what he was looking for. But as a more pressing matter was taking hold of his mind, he decided to get it over with.

"OK, let's go." Returning to the living room, he took the briefcase and the books that were on the rug next to the couch Castiel had been lying down and walked out.

The teacher lived in the neighboring property and the brief ride was done in an oppressive silence. Once or twice Castiel had made a point of speaking, but Dean seemed surrounded by an impenetrable wall. Eyes fixed on the road, face impassive.

He stopped in front of the familiar house, for he had often come and brought eggs to the lady who had lived there. He had never imagined that his friend, the one who seemed to have come from nowhere, would one day settle there. But that wasn't important now, in the face of what he had decided shortly before. That had precedence over everything else.

He got out of the car, took Castiel's belongings in the back, and helped him out too.

Dean followed him to the porch, waiting for him to open the front door.

The owner of the house seemed troubled. Dean ended his suffering by saying, abruptly:

"Well, I have to go." He turned and started walking resolutely back to the car.

"Dean, wait ..."

Dean turned his face to Castiel but didn't stop walking.

"I’d like to apologize for ..."

"No need, Cas. I get it."

The Impala vibrated with its soft rumble, taking Dean back into town.

Sitting on the bed still undone, he stared at his phone.

Dean had been looking for a phone number for the last half hour, and now that he had found it, he hesitated.

He took a deep breath for courage and touched the numbers on the screen.

A moment of silence and then a ring. One more. Dean thought of hanging up and letting it go. One more ring and a voice said _‘hello’_.

Swallowing the nervousness that had lodged in his throat, he finally answered:

"Hi, Sam."

Lying on the bed he stared at the ceiling. His eyes, swollen by the tears that had fallen unceasingly after he had ended the call, wandered through the cracks in the plaster, as if searching for the north on a map with no directions.

When he told Timmy that he had to think of himself first, even though it would hurt anyone he loved, he realized that this was what Sam had done when he refused to accompany him when Dean had been at Stanford nine years before. He had chosen what was best for him, the path which would take him from that life he hated, even if he would hurt his father and brother. Dean had considered Sam a selfish person, but now he saw that his motivation was the pursuit of a better life... And who could be condemned for wishing to be happy?

Moved by this realization, he had reached out, trying to reattach their brotherly bonds. Sam absence was a constant source of sadness in his heart.

The talk with his brother had been long and difficult. Well, at first, at least. Initially embarrassed, Sam had slowly opened up and both had confessed their regrets and frustrations. They had even managed to laugh a little, as they remembered some childhood stories.

Before the conversation was over, Sam had asked him what had motivated him to do that after so long. Dean said he would tell him everything when they met, he hoped, in the not too distant future. It was something he had to do face to face.

Sam had been silent, pondering, before agreeing. They had agreed to keep talking regularly over the phone until they could arrange a meeting.

Farewells had been permeated by sincere emotion. As Dean placed the phone on the bedside table, his defenses had crumbled and the tears flowed unrestrained, washing away years of recriminations and anguish.

Dean felt both light and empty, now that he was devoid of that hurt he'd been clinging to for so many years.

On the other hand, the cleaner horizon within himself allowed a clearer perception of other subjects . He now could think about Castiel.

But the conversation with Sam had exhausted him and that decision would have to wait for another day. Abandoning consciousness, he let himself sink into a peaceful sleep.


	18. Chapter 18

The cold autumn breeze involved him as he left the room. A gray day was waiting for him outside, but inside his chest a nice feeling warmed him, making the problems he still had to face feel a little smaller.

Relaxed, he walked over to the diner. He needed to have a full breakfast. The emotional effort of the day before consumed all his energy.

He sat down at the same table of the first day he returned. He no longer had the vision of the Impala, since it was parked at the motel but his eyes fell on a couple who walked with their arms around each other’s waists.

Robin and her fiancé. Happiness exhaled from them, even at that distance. Dean smiled, watching the joy on the face of the woman who had once attracted him.

The man was tall and strong. Allan, Dean remembered his name. He had an angular face with a well-defined jaw. The smile on his face reflected the emotion of the woman.

They were a nice couple, Dean thought. They came walking toward the restaurant and Dean, for the first time since he'd arrived, wanted to talk to her, to learn more about what he'd left behind. He wanted to get to know her again.

When they came in and Robin saw Dean sitting alone, she pulled her partner by the hand  and asked if Dean would share the table with them.

She seemed to notice something new on Dean’s face for she kissed him on the cheek, raising an indignant exclamation from the other man. But it was clearly a joke, Allan not really bothered by the public display of affection.

In the midst of a full meal, the conversation flowed with ease, Robin steering it to small matters.

But when she asked Dean if he knew what had happened to Castiel the day before because he'd called her that he wouldn’t be able to work that day, Dean suddenly didn’t know what to say.

As she seemed genuinely concerned, he told him that there had been an incident on the farm when he had come to visit Timmy, but nothing serious. He had suffered a blow to the head but he was fine, he probably just needed to rest.

Glancing at Dean with those huge eyes, Robin seemed ready to demand a more detailed explanation from him. Turning to Allan, she asked him to leave them alone for a few minutes. Though he looked surprised, he stood and said he would wait for her at the bookstore across the square. He said goodbye to Dean and left the restaurant.

She watched until the door closed behind him, then turned back to Dean.

He shuddered, thinking of what awaited him, a conversation he had desperately tried to avoid.

"Dean... why did you come back here? Please be honest with me, in the name of our friendship... "

"I already told you... I came on Sonny's request. He had a problem and... "

"Your coming here had nothing to do with... Castiel?"

" _Castiel_... why should there be? Until I got here I didn’t know he was still living in town. "

"Oh..." she said, blinking, a little confused. "What did you think had happened to him?"

"Honestly... I haven't thought much about it. I came to help Sonny and the past... it's the past, Robin."

She gave him a sad look, which Dean had never seen on that pretty face. He felt bad that he had provoked that reaction. And it hurt deep when he realized that it might not be the first time.

"I guess I'll have to... Look, Dean, I won’t lie... when you left..." she cleared his throat before continuing "It was difficult. For me, I mean.”

He lowered his eyes, embarrassed, though he knew that it wasn’t really his fault. Or was it?

"I kept waiting on that Saturday and then Sonny called and apologized for you. I didn’t want to believe, let alone understand, when he tried to explain what had happened. I've never... felt that way about anyone before. "

 _I wish I could say the same to you_ , he thought uneasily. But he knew that was not true... The feeling he had accepted only two days before hadn’t yet become a fact he could deal easily with. The annoyance of a very late perception was still making itself known.

"What I felt... I see now, it was just one of the growing pains. Time heals everything. And that's why I'm here now talking to you. But what I'm telling you is what happened _to me_ , Dean..."

He waited in suspense for what was to follow, but the seconds passed and the girl seemed to struggle internally with what she had yet to say.

"Robin..." he began, intending to end the embarrassing conversation, but she finally decided to keep talking.

"What happened to Castiel, though ... I hesitate to tell you, because it's not my story to tell... But I hope I'm not doing any harm when I tell him he was devastated. He regressed to the point where he was when he moved to Sonny's. It was impossible not to notice the correlation between your departure and his emotional state, Dean. Everyone saw how much he suffered. He was miserable."

Dean heard it all with great regret, guilt taking over his mind.

But Robin wasn’t finished yet.               

"One day, something shook him and he came back, not without another trauma... But life seems to remind us that it goes on and must be lived… Sometimes it’s joy. Other times it’s pain that does the job. Pain brought Castiel back." She stopped a moment to look closely at Dean's face before continuing.

"After that... we were both still sad so we leaned into each other. We became friends. We talked about you many times, trying to exorcise your absence... The natural evolution of that closeness was… we tried dating."

Dean's eyes widened. That, as incredible as it might seem, hurt more than anything! They had ended up being for each other what he could not be for either of them.

"But... we soon realized that it wasn’t us. We went back to just friends, confidants, what we are now. Allan will be my husband soon, but Castiel will always be my best friend. "

Dean swallowed at the magnitude of the affection that bound those two together. He felt despicable.

"You must be wondering why I told you all this... Although I made peace with the past and left all that behind, Castiel... Well, I can’t... But I have to ask you. Please don’t  let him go through anything like that again. He is good… he is kind, loving, dedicated... He only sees the best in people... I won’t see him suffer again. Never like that. So, I beg you, Dean... Don’t do anything like that to him again. "

With the back of her hand she wiped away a tear. In a familiar gesture, she lifted a sleeve and looked at her watch.

"Well, Allan shouldn’t wait for me all morning." She got up, grabbing her purse by the handle. "Sorry, Dean, if I hurt you... But he's my friend. I wish you all the best. "

She left. Dean had a bitter taste in his mouth.

Dean got up and headed quickly to the bathroom. Leaning against the wall of one of the stalls, he threw up.

He deserved that. Each time _, every time_ , he had left Castiel as the last to be considered. This was a horrible conclusion. Dean was a lousy human being, as he had long suspected. The facts had just confirmed his suspicions.

He decided right there that he was leaving. He would not see Castiel again, so he wouldn’t have a chance to hurt him. He could only hope he hadn’t already done it in the last few days.

He returned to the motel, tossed his meager belongings in his duffel and left. But he had to stop by Sonny's first.

Sonny and Timmy had nothing to do with his problems. He would go there and say goodbye.

They talked briefly and Dean promised to send a toy to Timmy, to replace the one he had destroyed. Timmy did not answer, just hugged him once more.

He started the car, looked at the map, checked the shortest route to the _rugaru_ that was waiting for him in Lima, Ohio, and left without looking back.


	19. Chapter 19

The Impala easily devoured the miles of the endless road. The driver drove the car to the freeway that led out of town, his luggage in the back seat and the music playing loud.

There was no time for recriminations. What was done was done. He had walked away again, this time for good.

Castiel had stayed aloof for all the time Dean had stayed in town. Maybe he'd realized he was a loser. Because that’s what he was. A loser, a man with no roots and no future.

Castiel had built a life for himself, helping others along the way. He was a dedicated professional, a respected citizen. He had friends, he had influenced lives... It was only natural that he tried to distance himself from Dean.

What Robin had told him was only the last straw. There was no room for Dean in his life.

He passed the sign that marked the town limit with a saddened heart. He wasn’t planning on coming back here again, overwhelmed by the idea that he was nothing, just a faint memory in some people's minds. He wasn’t important. No one needed him.

Even the joy of having talked to Sam again had paled in the face of the realization of how harmful his presence was. He began to rethink that too, determined to get away from it all. Definitely. He wasn’t good for anyone. Sam had been right when he got away from him.

But there is a limit to the suffering a human heart can bear. Dean had abused the capacity of his heart long ago. He felt tightness in his chest which made him inhale sharply.

He gripped the steering wheel with one hand as he undid a few buttons of his flannel. He inhaled harshly, bringing up a wave of nausea and anguish. He decided to stop at the shoulder. He opened the door and walked a few steps, dizzy, breathing heavily.

 _That's it_ , he thought. _I’m dying_. _God or any other power that rules the Universe has decided that I have already had my share in life. I’ve been a bad boy. It's time to leave._

He leaned against the car that was his only possession in the world and waited for the relief that would come through complete oblivion.

But minutes passed and his heartbeat began to return to normal. He started to breathe slower and easier.

 _Why am not dead? I don’t deserve another chance... I am poison... There is no hope for me..._ These were incontestable truths for him and he repeated them in his mind, incessantly.

From the heavens, as if attending to a perfect cue, a sign was sent in form of lightning. The dark clouds above got ripped by a bright electric impulse. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Dean opened his eyes and inhaled.

_A hot summer night._

_A storm._

_A sign._

When heavy raindrops began drumming on the Impala's metal casing, Dean seemed finally to come back to life.

The water that fell from above made him see clearly.

He got into the car, started the engine and making an open turn on the wet road he returned to the town he had just left.


	20. Chapter 20

His determined mind led him down the road to the old house where Castiel lived.

Dean switched off the engine, took a deep breath and pressed the horn. One, two, three times. He was too anxious so he quickly left the dry interior of the vehicle to get completely soaked in the heavy rain.

He walked toward the house, waiting for an answer. He stopped halfway and at the top of his lungs he called:

"Castiel!"

Inside the house, the dark-haired man opened his eyes and rose from the bed. He went to the window and what he saw made him tremble.

 _Dean_.

Since there had been no answer, the man in the rain opened his arms and called again, this time more sure:

"CASTIEL!"

Castiel didn’t want – couldn’t - feel hopeful. He thought about closing his eyes, covering his ears and forgetting that Dean was outside, calling out for him. But... _it was raining._

He ran downstairs and picked up a red umbrella that he kept by the door. He opened it and walked down the porch, raising the umbrella as he slowly descended the steps.

Dean was standing in the same spot, waiting for his approach.

Castiel drew closer with steady steps. He was going to be finally face to face with the one who had his heart for all those years.

Water trickled down Dean’s handsome face, emphasizing the freckles that had fascinated Castiel in the past.

With a rough gesture, Dean yanked the umbrella from Cas’ hand and tossed it away.

One step was what separated them, and Dean eliminated the distance. His hand came around Castiel’s neck and draw him even closer.

Dean inhaled deeply and their mouths met again.


	21. Chapter 21

When their lips touched it was almost overwhelming. Dean wanted to learn again what had been forgotten and feel all the perfect sensations that he knew he would find in Cas’ mouth.

Capturing Castiel's lower lip, Dean slid his tongue over it, drowning in the touch he'd craved for almost twenty years.

When his mouth opened, allowing entrance, it was as if time had not passed. The taste was the same. Intoxicating.

As the tongues touched, cautious at first, their bodies eagerly craved the proximity, as if there could be no space between them.

Castiel's arms found their way around Dean, and as before, they held him close to his heart.

Neither of them wanted to let go of the touch only briefly known on a distant summer night. But breathing was imperative.

The air was cold around them, their own bodies being the only source of heat. Castiel shivered, the short-sleeved T-shirt stuck to the well-defined figure.

Dean blinked, his eyelashes heavy with raindrops and tears. He realized now how much he had loved Castiel. How much he still loved him. And that was all that mattered.

Dean took a cold hand between his fingers and tried to guide Castiel toward the Impala, to take refuge from the hard rain. But Cas was more determined and brought Dean with him into the house.

They stumbled inside, making a mess on the dark wood floor. Suddenly feeling a little awkward, they looked into each other's eyes, their hands still tied. Trembling of cold and excitement, Castiel finally moved, guiding Dean to the downstairs bathroom, opening its door.

"You need to take off those clothes..." he said, with no second thoughts, but the slight lift of Dean's eyebrows made him notice the dubious connotation. _Not yet_ , he thought, slightly frustrated. "I'll bring something dry for you... Wait here..."

As soon as Cas finished uttering the words he ran upstairs, two steps at a time, betraying his own anxiety.

Dean smiled softly at the sight, before entering and closing the door behind him.

He removed his soaked clothes, trying not to make too much of a mess on the floor. He balled them and put them in the sink. The boxers were the only dry piece of clothing. Even his socks were soaking wet.

Dean heard a light knock on the door. He opened it at once and all the way, realizing too late what he was doing. That took his host by surprise. He had a towel and a change of clothes in his arms. The movement of his Adam’s apple revealed how much the sight of his half-naked friend disturbed him.               

Dean thanked him, realizing the embarrassment he caused. He took what Cas brought and closed the door again.

He dried and got dressed quickly. He didn’t want to keep Castiel waiting. He knew that a conversation was inevitable and for the first time in his life he wouldn’t shy away from it. He had come to that house with a purpose, and whatever the outcome of their talk, he would not be cowering now.

Undecided for a moment about what to do about his own clothes, he decided they would stay where they were for the time being. He would deal with them later, for there was something far more important to do.

He opened the door cautiously this time. But Castiel was not in sight. He looked around the room before he heard noises coming from the corridor to the right.

Barefoot, his feet feeling the softness of the old boards under his soles, he walked silently to the end of the hallway and into the familiar kitchen he had been several times. The old lady that used to live there always offered him some treat when he brought the eggs.

To add yet another happy memory to that cozy room, his eyes fell on Castiel. He had his back to him while he filled the kettle in the sink. He was wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, his hair still damp, his feet bare on the green linoleum. It was an extremely sexy sight, but Dean could not get lost in these conjectures.

Clearing his throat to make himself noticed, he walked slowly. Castiel turned around and couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding down Dean's strong, muscular body. Seeing him in his own clothes, gray sweatpants and a black tee, Cas realized he was even more attractive than he'd imagined. Shaking his head slightly, he pushed away those thoughts.

"Sit down, Dean, please. I think we have a lot to talk about... don’t you think?" Castiel said, his voice more insecure than he wished.

"Thank you, Cas. Yes, there is much to say. "

He pulled up one of the chairs and sat down, resting his forearms on the checkered tablecloth. He watched Castiel as he put the kettle on the stove, took two mugs from the cupboard, and placed them on the counter. He wished that this mundane task could point to an easier way of doing what needed to be done.

Dean didn’t say anything. He waited for Cas to be ready. He owed him that, since he needed twenty years to get there himself.

When Castiel sat down in front of him, his resolve almost faltered. He had decided to tell him everything... and now, looking deep into those eyes, he felt unworthy. He doubted what he had come to say.

Dean swallowed hard, looking at his hands resting on the table. He didn’t know how to begin.

Castiel waited patiently, his gaze also directed at the calloused hands. A tiny smile formed on his lips at the realization that those hands were also covered in freckles.

Dean, who had looked back at his old friend for a moment, noticed the smile and it motivated him to start talking.

"Cas, I... have no right to be here, but since you gave me this chance... I intend to use it to be honest. I just ask you to let me talk... it's a lot and I'm afraid I won’t be able to finish if I stop. "

Castiel nodded silently.

"I... I was determined to leave. I was on the road… out of town, to tell you the truth. I had no intention of seeing you again."

He continued as he saw the familiar head tilt that told him that Cas was wondering why:

"Today... someone made me see that... I made you suffer… a lot... in the past. And I had hints that... you could still hurt for what happened all those years ago." Dean had no intention of naming who said that, but Castiel would know.

"I thought I'd spare you more... sadness... going away for good.  You would have the confirmation that I am not a good person it and it would be over. "

Castiel couldn’t restrain himself:

"Dean..." and then, remembering that he had initially agreed to be silent for a while, he closed his mouth and waited for Dean to continue.

"I'm nothing special, Cas... and it's hard to understand why you... you might feel attracted to me, even when we were kids. The truth is... I felt the same way about you... and this is an admission that I have long denied myself. "

Castiel tried to keep his face impassive, keeping his comments for later, but he couldn’t hide what those statements were doing to him.

"It's not enough justification, Cas, to say that my father was a prejudiced son of a bitch... who created me to be a man, in every way. He would never forgive me if he knew... " he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath "…our kiss that night destroyed that idea of man for me. It destroyed the concept of sexuality I had, based on what he had taught me... Not exactly at that moment, but in the days that followed... I lost myself… completely... because of the kiss. "

If Castiel could speak, he would have apologized for that, but he wouldn’t interrupt again.

"As you know, I tried to regain my identity again... using Robin. Yeah, I know what I did. I intend to apologize to her later, but I think she has overcome all that. I bitterly regret everything I've done, Cas… I... It was unfair and I acted in an extremely insensitive way… to both of you. "

He stopped, unable to continue. A lump in his throat threatened to make him lose his composure.

Sensing what was happening, Castiel let it go. He walked to the stove and filled the mugs with water, putting a chamomile teabag and a spoonful of sugar in each. He hesitated as he closed the sugar bowl, opening it again to add another dose to Dean's mug.

Instead of being reassuring, that gesture brought Dean even closer to tears. The man in that kitchen, so different from the boy he had been, still knew him better than he should.

He brought his hands up and rested his forehead on them in a vain attempt to hide his eyes from the other man's gaze.

Since Dean didn’t seem able to continue, Castiel did:

"You said... You were leaving. Why did you decide to come back?"

His eyes tightened sharply before his eyelids opened.

"I thought I was dying" he whispered.

 "W-What?"

"I felt tightness in my chest, I couldn’t breathe... I thought I was going to die and... I was OK with that. I've caused so much suffering... I've hurt a lot of people... it was only fair. "

Cas was the one on the verge of tears now.

"I stopped the car and got out... I almost couldn’t stand... But I felt better gradually… I think it was just... an anxiety attack or something like that."

Castiel nodded, visibly worried.

"When I started cursing those who had let me live in spite of everything... _It started raining_." He finally fixed his eyes on Castiel.

Castiel knew what that meant. He had once said _"it is an answer to my prayers."_ But then he had come to the conclusion that he had been wrong. The rain, the kiss... They had ruined everything.

"I had the chance, if I wanted... to try talking to you. I could try... apologizing. Then I would leave. Or I could show you that I finally accept what you mean to me… that I am no longer afraid to face what I feel for you.” He paused for a moment.

“Or at least, if you wouldn’t want to see me, it would be the rejection that I deserved and it would be the end."

Castiel sobbed softly, trying to contain the tears that burned under his eyelids.

"Cas, I don’t deserve to be here, I don’t deserve anything from you... but I had to try... Do you understand? I couldn’t go away leaving things as they were... Even though now I have even less to offer you than before." He finished, lowering his eyes, unable to look at Castiel’s face.

The dark haired man didn’t hesitate. He stood and approached Dean, pulling his chin up so that he looked at him:

"Never say you don’t deserve the feelings I have for you, Dean. I believe that you are a good man and you deserve more than life has given you… So much more than the affection of a misguided boy could have for you. "

"Cas..."

"Dean, let me speak, please," he said softly but assertively.

Closing his mouth, his face still between the other man's long fingers, he nodded.

"You were the first person out of my family that I loved. You accepted me as your friend with no reserve, even if I had nothing to offer. I was confused, hurt. You helped me see that good things still could happen, despite the sad life I had before.”

Cas’ hands left Dean’s face as he crouched beside him:

"I betrayed your friendship and tried to force you into a relationship you were not ready to accept. I'm so sorry, Dean. I’ve been carrying this guilt all this time and I thank you, even if I don’t deserve the opportunity, for allowing me to express my regret. "

Dean was incredulous. Castiel also felt guilty.

"But I see that although we repent of how we acted in the past... and just a few days ago I was also extremely rude to you ..." he paused to take a deep breath "…we are both here. Now."

Dean felt a spark burn in his chest.

"We are here and we have a chance to do things differently. What do you want, Dean? "

"I want your forgiveness."

"No, Dean, why did you come back here? What do you really want?"

"You, Cas ... I only want you... if you’ll have me." He answered, choking, finally stating what he had decided a little more than a day before but that had become an absolute certainty.

"Do you think I won’t?" He murmured. His gaze was tender and he leaned to touch the other's lips gently with his own.

Dean could finally exhale, accepting the soft kiss.

Castiel stood up and took Dean's hands in his. When they were both standing, Cas embraced Dean again.

Dean's arms did the same, wrapping around Cas' waist.

They stood there for a long time, their foreheads touching, breathing the same air as they allowed the uncertainties to gradually turn to hope.


	22. Chapter 22

Dean took the initiative, his intense gaze asking permission to kiss Cas once more.

Castiel closed his eyes, eliminating the space between them. This time the contact, at first slow, had rekindled the desire in both, allowing them, for the first time, to experience it freely.

Dean needed to show Cas that he had overcome his obstacles, even though he had never done anything like that with another man. He lowered the hands he had at the back of Cas’ neck, his fingers curling into his damp hair, sliding them over his muscular arms, feeling them twitch at the touch. Reaching the hem of his loose t-shirt, Dean made his fingers slide beneath it, bringing them forward, in a gesture that was both tender and erotic, as his thumbs touched the hipbones exposed by the low waistband of Cas’ jeans.

Castiel demonstrated his pleasure with an even deeper kiss. Dean felt his excitement grow rapidly and soon he was grinding against his partner, his sweatpants not being able to disguise what was happening. A moan was the dark haired man's way of showing that Dean was on the right path.

Dean's strong hands came up, still under the garment, toward his chest, brushing his nipples. Cas raised his arms that his partner could pull the shirt over his head. When the soft fabric revealed the face that had been hidden for a fraction of a second, Dean could see his dilated pupils consuming the blue of the irises, as Cas’ lips parted in a warm smile.

They were removing pieces of clothing, and it was natural and easy. Each item of clothing that touched the floor was a step in the direction they had been moving for years, though Dean's doubts had led them astray.

Curious and reverent eyes appreciated every piece of skin revealed. Their heartbeats accelerated with every touch, until there was nothing left, just the two of them naked in Castiel's kitchen.

Now that they were there, Dean felt nervous for a moment. The words had opened the way, but the next step was decisive. The attraction of both sides was undeniable and yet there was the uncertainty brought by something new, though sought for a long time. The look that Castiel gave Dean was almost a plea and Dean could not see fear or doubt there, so he smiled and whispered in his ear:

"I'm here, Cas... and I'm yours."

Dean expressed his compliance so Castiel felt finally safe to lead him into the living room, lost in kisses and caresses, pushing him gently against the couch. Cas made Dean sit down, his back against the cushions. Dean relaxed, reveling in Cas’ athletic body and his lips parted in a sigh as he realized no one had ever attracted him so intensely.

Castiel did the same, absorbing every detail, his face betraying the irresistible attraction he felt. He touched Dean's separated knees and slid his hands in a gentle caress until they were on his hips, as he straddled his strong body, their lips touching again.

Moving purposefully, he brought his hips forward, causing his erect cock to touch Dean's and staring into his eyes, brushed them against each other.               

Unable to keep his eyes open for sensory overload, Dean moaned, tilting his head back. That contact, which he had never allowed himself, was perfect.

Cas was perfect.

Castiel intensified the caresses, kissing Dean many times, his lips spreading warmth across his face, neck, chest, his hands stroking the skin the way his fantasy had imagined endless times. His voice, between one kiss and another, uttered only one word: _Dean_. He held him close, as if he were afraid of losing him now that they had found each other again.

When Castiel took the two cocks together, stimulating them firmly, Dean wrapped his own over his partner's hand and helped him with the task. The long repressed contact was much more than they could handle and both soon reached the climax.

As the desires of the body were silenced for a while, they felt in peace. Castiel rested his head on Dean's shoulder, letting himself rest from a trajectory that had seemed endless. Lonely. Now he knew that Dean felt the same way. They could finally find what had been lost.

They relaxed languidly in each other's arms. They felt safe.

Outside, rain was still falling, transformed into a soft drizzle.

When they started to feel uncomfortable, Castiel got up and, holding Dean's hands, pulled him up. They climbed the stairs hand in hand, unhurried.

While they waited for the shower to reach a pleasant temperature, they did not waste time, touching each other sensually. However, when Dean tracked one of the scars on Castiel's back, he felt the other stiffen for a moment. Pulling away he sought the cause of the embarrassment.

Cas' expression reflected the shame he had of the marks of his history. But Dean knew it and hugging him gently, tried to calm him down. He stroked his broad shoulders, whispering soft words in his ear.

When he felt Castiel relax against him, Dean made him turn and face the mirror, leaning against the counter.

Blue eyes communicated fear and embarrassment as they meet Dean’s in the mirror.

Dean began to trace each of the welts with his lips, murmuring words of affection against the scarred skin. Castiel closed his eyes as tears flooded them.

When Dean had touched all the scars, he rested his chin on Cas' shoulder and spoke softly:

"We all have scars, Cas... Mine, the deepest ones, they are within me. But you know them, each of them ... and your understanding recognizes them, accepts them. Don’t you ever hide from me, please. They are part of you, and in spite of the pain they caused, they made you who you are. They are part of the admirable man you became. "

Cas turned around, taking Dean's face in his hands, thanking each word with a kiss, tears running down his face.

"I love you, Dean," he said.

Dean, touched, couldn’t answer right away. But his eyes imparted the message that his mouth was still unable to enunciate.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in Castiel's bed, in caresses and confidences.

In the intimacy they shared and that has been unknown, until now, to both of them, elements of their friendship were relived. Their closeness convened the promise of a harmonious coexistence in the future, despite all the edges that needed to be trimmed.

Dean was curious about many facts in Castiel’s life, but the most pressing of them for him was why he'd come back here and settle down after college. He had the means to live anywhere he chose and yet he came back. Dean avoided the question as much as he could, but eventually he couldn’t help himself. Castiel answered it straight away, he had nothing to hide from Dean.

"Sonny was a paternal figure to me, after all. I haven’t forgotten the man who raised me in my early years, but when he was gone and everything else happened... Sonny showed me that it is possible to keep fighting, looking for a better way of life. He was the stability I needed, when there was none. He, the boys in the house, Mrs. Mendez, Robin... They were a new family for me." He said frankly. Before continuing, he lifted his face from where he was resting on Dean's chest and looked into his sad eyes. "And if I'm completely honest with myself... I always hoped that someday you would come back."

Dean smiled, even though he was sorry that it had taken so long to happen. Holding the other against his chest, he kissed his temple.

But Dean could not escape reflecting on their future. Despite Cas’ acceptance, he was a stable man, a respectable member of the local community, a competent professional. Dean... he was a nomad, a guy who had dropped out of school and whose only property was the car parked in front of the house. His skills were many, but none applied to life in the quiet town where Castiel lived. Well, maybe sporadically, like the recent appearance of Timmy's mother.

"You're thinking too loud, Dean..." Castiel said in a kind tone to the man in his arms. "Whatever the worry in your mind... we'll find a way. Sonny showed us... there is always a way. There is a future for us."

Dean wanted to say everything he felt, to expose all the inadequacies that he perceived in himself, but faced with Castiel’s optimism and unconditional love, he let it go. They would think about all that later. The present moment they lived was unique and he decided to accept without restrictions what Castiel was willing to give him.

They would work together in their issues. It was an exciting prospect for Dean.


	23. Epilog

Dean had the grill covered by different types of meats and the delicious smell brought everyone closer. Dean smiled when he saw Castiel and Timmy bringing out plates and cutlery from the kitchen to set them on the tables arranged in the backyard.

Timmy had grown up that year and a half that Dean had lived in town. It was the ‘growth spurt of adolescence’, Castiel had told him. He probably knew about that subject since he worked with children for so many years. Timmy was also more outgoing, more confident. He was an excellent student and a good kid, always kind to everyone. The resilience he showed in the face of so many losses was impressive.

As Dean watched them walk back in through the back door, he saw a new car parked under the trees. Sammy had arrived and he fought the urge to abandon everything and rush to embrace him. He couldn’t leave the steaks now that they were almost done. He tried to disguise the emotion as he could, getting busy with the food.

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, a head rested between his shoulder blades. Dean turned to receive a light kiss on the cheek. Castiel had come back out, and as quiet as usual, had approached Dean.

"Something smells good..." he said, his arms squeezing his partner’s waist as he looked over his shoulder.

"Lunch is almost ready, babe... I think you should call Sonny. Is everyone here?"

"Mrs. Mendez called a few minutes ago and said she would be a little late. The pies were still hot and she feared they would break as they were transported. But she must be arriving soon."

Dean's younger brother came toward the two men. It still surprised Dean how he felt comfortable with his mate in front of everyone, especially his brother, when he had so long struggled with the internalized prejudice that made him run away from who he really was.

Sam approached with a broad smile on his face and open arms. Castiel let Dean go, knowing how much he had anticipated that moment. But as soon as he had left Sam’s embrace, Dean had pulled Cas by the hand so that his brother could finally meet him in person.

They'd been in touch since the day Dean made the first call. Phone calls were constant now and they already knew each other through some long Skype sessions, since they lived in opposite sides of the country.

Sam was very understanding and was also pleased to learn that Dean had finally settled down,  finding a life partner in Castiel, even though he had never known what had happened that summer when Dean was sixteen.

Sonny came toward them, carrying a basketful of bread. Placing it at one of the tables, he reached for Sam, introducing himself.

The conversation was cut short for they heard the horn of Mrs. Mendez's truck, which had arrived.

Sonny returned to the back door and rang the bell that was the traditional call for meals on the farm. The sound carried Dean to the time he had felt welcomed in that temporary house, the first stable home he had known since his mother's death. His chest warmed at the thought that his new home was nearby and that the fact it was permanent still amazed Dean a little.

People, who had been scattered about the property in small groups, came closer, the buzz of conversation and the laughter of children getting louder.

Dean finished disposing of the food he had grilled on trays and passed them to his brother and Sonny to lay them on the tables.

He looked around, touched by nostalgia, several of the boys he had met as a young man gathering for the festive lunch.

Garth had come from New York with his wife Bess and their two-year-old son, Theo. It was the friend with whom Castiel had kept a closer contact, besides Robin. They usually met once a year, when Cas traveled to the metropolis during school recess. The previous December, when Dean had accompanied Cas, they had been warmly welcomed at their apartment. The man who once was a skinny, shy boy had winked at Castiel with complicity when they met. He knew how much Castiel had suffered because of his unrequited love and he was happy to learn that they finally had a happy and loving relationship.

Victor came alone because he had just gotten divorced. His ex-wife and children were in Washington, but he proudly showed the photos of the pre-teen boy and girl. Benny and his wife weren’t able to come this time, but they had promised to visit soon.

Many others came from all over the country, the boys with whom Sonny had kept in touch over the years, who acknowledged his positive influence on their lives. Most had brought wives, children, and the older children easily bonded with the current residents of ‘Sonny’s Home for Boys’.

Dean had the idea of that reunion. He wanted to meet his old friends. Castiel was responsible for the invitations while Dean organized the event, for which he requested the ever enthusiastic assistance of the retired Mrs. Mendez.

As he sat down at the table, Castiel on one side, Sammy on the other, her friend Robin and her husband, Allan in front of them, Dean felt a sense of belonging as he rarely had the chance to experience before.

Even though he was gradually rediscovering life away from hunting, seeking a new career path, adapting to the quiet life of the local community, he knew that he had found the safe haven he had been searching for since his family had left his hometown.

Glancing around at those cheerful faces, his heart pounded. Sensing the emotional moment, Castiel squeezed his hand and smiled, reminding him of how much he was loved and accepted.

Smiling in turn, he heard when Mrs. Mendez asked for silence so they could say grace. He lowered his eyes, Castiel's hand still between his fingers. He felt at home at last.


End file.
